Leap of Faith
by Truish
Summary: Heero struggles to relate to his teenage daughter. Set approximately 19 years after Endless Waltz.
1. Chapter 1

No one seemed to notice the two not quite middle-aged men who sat at the corner table, but they were conspicuous all the same. They were dressed simply, casual shirts, worn jeans, comfortable shoes; it didn't go with the artfully disarrayed black-on-black of the crowd who'd packed the dive bar in support of the band.

"We stick out," the darker one muttered. "I wish you'd told me I'd need a disguise."

His companion was calmer. "Don't worry about it. Nobody's paying any attention to us—we're old enough, and uncool enough, to be somebody's parents. No one wants to attract our attention."

"Why did you bring me here, anyway?"

"You looked like you needed to unwind." One green eye glittered with a trace of a smile. "And I had an extra ticket. Cathy usually comes, but she said she didn't feel like the headache tonight."

"Hn."

Trowa knew that he wasn't going to get much out of Heero. But that wasn't the point. His mission was the truth, certainly, and the long-sought answer to a burning question, but he knew better than to push. Heero wasn't the type to respond to a direct line of interrogation. Not on this subject, anyway.

He signaled the waitress for a refill on his soda—the band members were underage, so the bar wasn't serving alcohol—and waited for the show to start.

"It's a good group," he said, talking to kill time. "They're young, and they don't write their own music, but they have talent. Their singer is particularly good. Her name," he hesitated, for emphasis, "is Faith."

That did it. He caught the slightest twitch in Heero's cheek. The beginning of a frown, quickly eased away to divert suspicion.

"So?" Heero asked. "Are you scouting a new act for the circus? Punk music doesn't exactly seem family-friendly."

"No," Trowa said. "This is just a favor for a friend. His wife is in the hospital and he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it. He wanted his kids to know they're being looked after, just in case there are any problems."

It was true after a fashion. Hilde really was in the hospital—but it happened so frequently that her absences were routine.

"We're babysitters, then." Heero really did frown at that. It wasn't surprising; he'd avoided contact with children—and even his friends with children—since his daughter had disappeared. Officially, she'd been missing, presumed dead, for thirteen years. He'd never recovered. Relena, ready to start living again, had finally kicked him out. He'd been drifting through L2 ever since, frightening civilians with the dead look in his eyes; Duo had spotted him six weeks ago and together he and Trowa had planned tonight's scheme. It was time, past time, for Heero to realize that he was no longer the perfect soldier. He needed to learn that he didn't have to work alone anymore.

"We're more like moral support," Trowa corrected. "They're old enough that babysitters would be offensive; we're just here to watch the show. And maybe keep people from trying to climb onstage."

"Hn." It seemed like agreement, even if it was a bit non-committal. Mission accepted, Trowa thought. He really has fallen back on old times. He took a sip of his drink as the house lights dimmed and a sound check started. It hadn't been easy to plan this one, to keep the bar or the band from over-selling the show or putting up posters. He hoped it was worth the effort.

* * *

><p>Faith waited backstage for her cue. New crowds excited her, made her blood sing in her ears along with the beat Dak set on his drums. He was really on fire tonight, she thought, and the rest of the boys weren't doing so badly either. Ten more seconds, she thought, taking a breath. Composing herself. She wanted to smile—being onstage made her feel so alive—but that didn't go with the music they had chosen. Instead, she centered herself in the anger that welled up during her weakest moments and let it run its course. Chris ended his guitar solo, and Dak pounded out the first beats of her entrance.<p>

She ran into the lights. It was time.

* * *

><p>"What is she <em>wearing<em>?" He almost sounded—incredulous. It was the only thing Heero had said after nearly an hour of silence.

It was the first clue that perhaps Heero wasn't as far gone as they'd thought. Trowa hid his smile with his drink.

"What does it matter to you?" he asked. "You're not her father."

But he was. Trowa was in on the secret, even though Heero didn't know it—and he couldn't resist needling his onetime brother-in-arms. Heero deserved it for dumping his daughter on Duo, even if it had been for her own protection. He was a creative guy; he could have kept in touch instead of following her around in secret.

Trowa did wonder what had inspired tonight's costume, though. Faith was usually a modest dresser, but tonight she'd ripped a good six inches off the hem of one of her school uniform skirts and paired it with a black shirt that had been cut short enough to reveal her pierced navel. Her knee socks were torn, her shoes were scuffed, and the whole outfit had been covered with enough glitter that she shed sparkles whenever she moved.

Heero didn't answer. He was trying to keep up his stoicism, his perfect façade, but Trowa could see through it. He'd known the man in his younger days, when his expressions really had been unfathomable. Today's Heero was a pale shadow of the soldier who'd saved the world and, eventually, married the princess and tried to live happily ever after.

The music pounded in his skull. Angry. Fierce. The boys were good on their own, but Faith's voice was the driving force that bound them together. If they'd just write their own music, instead of playing pre-colony covers, they'd really have something.

_The truth never set me free  
>The truth never set me free<br>The truth never set me free_

_So I'll do it myself_

"I told you she was good. It's almost like she's trying to tell us something." Trowa didn't expect a response; it was too soon. Heero was still fighting too hard. Faith scanned the crowd between verses; he met her eyes and nodded. She broke her stage persona long enough to grin.

"You really do know her," Heero said at last. "Is she in on this? Whatever it is you're trying to pull?"

Trowa shrugged, unwilling to give up any edge he might still have on the Perfect Soldier. "Ask her yourself. I also happen to have backstage passes. Keep your distance when you're asking, though. She has a mean left hook."

* * *

><p>Notes: First chapter is done! Let me know if you enjoyed it. The rest of the story is still in the planning stage, but things are moving along pretty well. I hope to have another chapter up in the next week or so. :D<p>

Song lyrics are from Paramore. I love them and their songs seem to fit very well with several parts of the story, especially since Faith doesn't write her own music. But more on that later.


	2. Chapter 2

Backstage was little more than an unused office that had been emptied of all but a busted lamp and a couch that had seen better days. Duo waited, arms crossed, as his kids filed in after the show. Faith knew this was the fun part of their concerts for him—breaking everything down and leaving like normal people.

"Faith, if I _ever_ see you dressing like that anywhere but onstage, your ass will be grounded SO fast," he said in his best drill-sergeant tone, grinning to show he wasn't really mad. The overprotective dad act was mainly that—an act. Faith grinned back.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, perfectly playing the part of the disobedient daughter. Her backpack with her street clothes was in the corner. She made a beeline for it, leaving a trail of glitter on the worn carpet.

"Boys," Duo started. "Tats. Now."

He held out his hands. Dak and Chris peeled the pantyhose-like tattoo sleeves off their arms and handed them over. Luke and Mark, the twins, shrugged. They were wearing the stick-on kind.

"They'll come off in the shower, Dad," Luke said. "We can cover them with our jackets until we get home."

"You better. Piercings. All of you."

It continued until all the stage prosthetics and props were gone. Chris's mohawk. Dak's ponytail. The twins' horns and fangs. Faith's glitter would have to find its way down the shower drain at home, but she knew Duo wouldn't let her outside until she scrubbed off her mascara and smoky eyeshadow.

Faith didn't always like the tough guy act, but she understood. Duo wanted people to know that although Faith and her brothers were in a punk rock band, they were still polite, respectful young adults. The colony's community was tightly-knit, and a bad reputation at a young age might mean trouble finding jobs or getting into good extracurricular programs later. Duo made it a point to think about their futures. With six kids to look after, he needed them to get all the brownie points—and scholarships—they could. Managing their appearances helped. Pretending to be super strict helped even more. For reasons Faith had yet to understand, most adults were more trusting of teens that seemed to be under constant, strict supervision.

The closet-sized bathroom opened into the office so nobody had to step into the hall until they were all changed and ready to go. Faith hefted her backpack onto one shoulder and got up to change.

"Let somebody else go first," Duo suggested, stopping her. "Trowa's here and he said he wanted a look at your costume."

Mention of the clown's name was all it took to put a smile on Faith's lips. "Trowa's here? Oh! I thought I saw him out there."

And there he was. She saw him standing calmly in the doorway, his faint almost-smile apparent in the crinkle around his one visible eye. Faith wondered if he was ever going to change his hairstyle; it might be nice to see both eyes at once someday.

"Trowa!" She ran to hug him, only partly because it would be fun to cover him in the glitter that still drifted off her hair and clothes. He usually only came around once a year with the circus. Unscheduled appearances were always a treat. "I missed you."

He hugged her back, not minding the glitter. "I missed you, too, Fay. Cathy sends her love."

She frowned, then, and looked up at him. His face was impassive, difficult to read, but amused. Faith squinted over Trowa's shoulder into the dark hallway at the person slouching in the shadows. Tall. Male. She couldn't distinguish his features in the dark, but she didn't need to. She recognized the posture.

"Well, well," she said, pulling away, pushing back a flood of anger. "If it isn't my deadbeat dad. I didn't know you two were friends. _Excuse_ me."

It was all she could do to slip past Dak into the bathroom. She changed into her street clothes as someone—probably Dak—hammered on the door. The boys were all talking at once—they'd never believed her when she said she was adopted. Dimly, she heard Duo apologizing, but she couldn't tell if it was to her brothers or to Trowa and her dad. She didn't care. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to be alone.

* * *

><p>Trowa grabbed Heero and pulled him into the room before he could slip away in the confusion. This wasn't how the plan was supposed to go down.<p>

"I'm not doing this," he said. But he didn't resist much. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall while Duo got control of the boys.

"Out." Duo said at last, when it was obvious that nobody was calming down. "Go pack up and wait by the car. I want everything loaded in five minutes. You ought to be able to manage that."

"You didn't tell her," Trowa said after the boys were gone. "I thought she was in on this."

Heero didn't say anything. It was just as well.

"Nah." Duo sat heavily on the worn sofa, elbows on his knees, chin on his hands. "She wouldn't have gone for it. And she has enough to worry about right now. She says people are following her again. She acts like it's fine, but it really freaks her out."

"Oh?" Trowa kept his expression neutral. "She isn't acting out for attention, is she? It wouldn't be the first time a teenage girl has come up with imaginary stalkers."

"No." Heero's voice was cold, his gaze level. "It's two men. Middle-aged. Caucasian. They seem to just be watching her right now. I think they're waiting for orders."

"And you're just letting them follow her around?" Trowa asked. Maybe it was better that Heero had given her up. Father of the year, he was not.

"The last time someone intervened, the stalker died in jail before officers could get a statement," Heero said, drawing Trowa's focus back to the situation at hand. He spoke evenly, like he was debriefing after a mission. There was no anger in his voice, nothing to give away how he really felt. It was probably for the best, Trowa thought—it was too easy to let emotion cloud rational judgment. "That's not going to happen this time. I want to find out who's behind this."

"How'd you find out about the first guy?" Duo asked. "I thought you said you weren't going to keep track of her, that it was too dangerous. That's why I didn't try to contact you."

"I'm keeping track of the people who are after her, trying to get enough evidence together to put them away for good," Heero explained. "It was inevitable that our paths would cross. I've been trying to stay out of her sight, but she's perceptive. It hasn't been easy."

"Did you expect anything less?" Trowa asked. "She is your daughter, after all. Faith doesn't just take after you in appearance."

"No." Heero offered them the ghost of a smile. "But she's more like her mother than anyone realizes."

He moved away from the wall then, and with a speed that reminded Trowa of days past, forced the bathroom door open. It swung slowly aside, revealing a cracked sink, a toilet, and a single bare light bulb. There was a narrow slit of a window above the toilet; a patch of glitter on the wall indicated that Faith had slipped through it. None of them could manage it; they'd simply filled out too much.

Duo cursed, but he seemed more impressed than concerned.

"She's just as headstrong as Relena. And stubborn enough to do crazy things to get what she wants." Heero opened the window and looked outside. "It's too dangerous to let Faith wander alone at night. I'll take the streets. Trowa, take the rooftops. Find her and get her home—we'll meet back up at Duo's."

He walked out, then, before Duo or Trowa could protest.

"Jeez. He's only been here five minutes and he's giving orders like he thinks we're still soldiers," Duo muttered. "What does that say about a guy? He really can't seem to let it go."

"What does it say about the people who follow him?" Trowa asked, peering upward through the window. It would be an easy climb to the roof. Faith could have done it, but he doubted that she had—her glittery clothes would have left an obvious trail. Heero would have noticed that, too. Clearly, he wanted to see her more than he let on. "I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it because Faith deserves to be safe—whether she stays here or goes back with him is her decision."

"I guess so," Duo said. "Want me to wait here while you check the roof?"

"No. Just get the kids together and go home. She might just beat us there."

Duo nodded. "The boys are probably wondering what's going on. It's gonna be a fun trip back," he muttered.

* * *

><p>There were four guilty-looking boys waiting on the curb outside the club. That changed when they noticed Heero. The oldest, Chris, glared. The twins stared openly—they were a little too young to have grasped the concept of subtlety, Heero guessed. Dak, the middle boy, simply looked concerned.<p>

"Where did she go?" he asked. It was obvious that Faith had been by—they wouldn't have looked so guilty if they didn't know anything.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Chris said. "I think you should go back where you came from and stay away from Faith."

"Not an option," Heero replied. "I'll leave when she's safe. Nobody is getting rid of me before that happens.

The boys hedged. One twin started to talk, only to be shushed by his brother. Chris simply stared, arms crossed. Dak sighed.

"She went home," Dak said. Chris punched him. "Stop it! You know those guys are after her again. What if they're out here tonight?" He turned back to Heero. "Go through the alley. Climb the fence and take a left through the back of the café. Go right when you get to the next alley, then left on the main road to go home. That's probably the way she's going. You should run into her if you hurry."

"Thanks." Heero ran down the alley Dak indicated. He hoped the other boys didn't give Dak too much trouble, but there wasn't time to stick around and mediate. e HeHe HHHHH

Faith had left a faint, sparkling trail, but it was faster to just follow Dak's directions than to search for a bit of glitter in the dark. Heero scaled the fence at the end of the alley easily, and nearly tripped over a man lying half-under one of the café tables. He groaned, and Heero noticed the smashed chair on the ground beside him.

Heero left him—he wasn't going to be up to talking anytime soon—and scaled the wooden fence that led to the next alley. He heard the gunshot behind him and swore. Another suicide. Another suspect that couldn't be questioned.

There was no time to waste on the dead man. Not when the sound of running footsteps and a glimpse of a slight figure fleeing around the corner meant that Faith was running into danger alone. He sprinted after her.

* * *

><p>Faith ducked around the corner, panting. She'd picked up her stalkers after leaving the concert. One of them was down—he hadn't been expecting her to jump out from under a table and bash him with a chair—but the other was still after her. She heard him sprinting through the alley. She was tired of the stalkers, and she was pissed at Duo, Trowa, and her dad, for the years of secrets and lies. They knew something about all this, and she was sick of being kept in the dark. It was time to end this.<p>

_Wait for it_, she thought, standing just out of sight from the alley. The footsteps pounded closer. _Three…two..._

At the last second, she stuck her foot out and tripped the guy. He didn't go sprawling, as she'd expected, but rolled and came to his feet. He wasn't one of her usual stalkers, but she'd seen him off and on for as long as she could remember. Of all the strangers that followed her around, he was the only one who worried her.

_Crap._

"Dad."

* * *

><p>Notes: I hope somebody's reading this! Chapter 3 is coming along; I'm having a few issues with conflict, but I hope to have it up in a week or so. lol<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Memories were hard for Faith. It wasn't dredging them up that was difficult. No, the hard part was keeping them where they belonged and preventing them from intersecting too much with reality. The sight of her dad standing under the streetlamps, right across the road from the grocery store parking lot, was just too much.

_It was a night like most nights on the colony: dark, but not too dark, temperate, quiet. Faith stayed by Dad's side, clutching Mr. Bunny in one hand. Dad held the other hand. He'd tried to pick her up, but she'd wriggled back down. Walking across the empty parking spaces was too much fun. Mom followed quietly. She and Dad had argued earlier, about grownup things, and she seemed sad now._

_The parking lot was empty but for their car and one other. Faith recognized it, though, and slipped away from Dad to run and greet the driver._

"_Mr. Duo!"_

"_Hey! There's my smart girl."_

_Faith laughed when he scooped her up and swung her into a hug, even though it meant she had to stop scuffing her shoes on the pavement. Mr. Duo was the best grownup ever, after Dad. _

"_I'm surprised you're even awake, kiddo," he said, settling her on his hip. _

"_I'm not tired!" she cried. She really was a little bit tired, but the grownups wouldn't let her play if they knew that. "I don't want a nap!"_

"_Don't get her started," Dad said, reaching for her. Duo passed her over and Dad hugged her extra tightly, soothing her into silence. "We have the papers. Until I find out who's behind this, it's safer if she just stays with you."_

"_You're sure about this?" Duo asked. _

_Faith clung to Dad's shoulder and watched the two men talk. Dad had his serious face on, and he'd shush her if she interrupted. Faith hated being shushed. Sometimes he even made her go to daycare when she was too loud. Faith hated daycare even more than she hated being shushed._

"_Yeah."_

_Dad set her back on the asphalt then, and knelt so he could talk to her._

"_You're going to stay with Mr. Duo and Ms. Hilde for a little while," he said. "Doesn't that sound fun?"_

"_No. I like staying with you." Faith reached for him, hoping he'd pick her up again. "I want to stay with you. And Mom."_

"_Sorry, kiddo," he said. "It's for your own good. You'll understand someday."_

"_Will you come back soon?" Faith asked. She wiped her eyes furiously. She hated crying._

"_Shit," he whispered, under his breath. Faith gasped. Mr. Duo accidentally said words like that in front of her all the time, but Dad never did. It was wrong, somehow, like the tears that glittered in his eyes were wrong. Dad never cried."Sorry."_

"_Don't cry, Dad," Faith said. She pushed Mr. Bunny into his hand. He looked at the stuffed rabbit, then back at Faith._

"_You understand, don't you?" he asked. She nodded._

"_I get to have a sleepover with Chris and Dak," she said. "I don't like Chris. He won't share. You won't forget me, will you?"_

"_Of course not, baby." That was Mom, kneeling beside them suddenly, even though she hated getting her nice clothes dirty. "We could never forget you. We'll come and get you as soon as we can."_

"_You go with Duo now," Dad said. "Here, don't forget your rabbit."_

_Faith shook her head. "You keep Mr. Bunny for now, Dad. He misses you."_

"_All right. Here, you take this, Faith." Dad handed her his pocket calendar. He used to let her play with it often, but it had been a while. Faith took it gently. "Take care of it for me, okay?"_

"_Okay, Dad." _

_Mom and Dad stood up then, and Dad pushed Faith toward Duo. He scooped her up again and held her close. Faith rested her head on his shoulder, sleepily, and switched on Dad's calendar. It was 2:33 a.m., May 21, AC 203. Faith had gotten the hang of letters, numbers and dates, but she couldn't read real words yet. Dad seemed proud enough, though, so she didn't worry about it much._

"_Is that it?" Duo asked, taking a folder of papers from Dad._

"_That's it," Dad said. "It's probably safest if you don't try to contact me. I'll be in touch."_

* * *

><p>The memory was there and gone in a second, but the lapse was enough to bother her. A lot could happen in a second. Faith scowled. Luckily, her dad hadn't moved. He seemed to be waiting for her to do something, or say something.<p>

Faith considered her options. He'd catch her if she ran and, much as she hated him, she didn't really want to hit him. He seemed pretty tough. She wasn't sure she could beat him if it came down to a fight, and her heart wasn't in it anyway. For all that he'd dumped her on Duo and vanished right before her third birthday, he was still her dad.

He only looked at her. His expression was unreadable. Faith couldn't tell if he was angry with her for running off or if it was something else.

"Why did you bother coming back after all this time?" she demanded.

"It isn't safe for you here anymore," he replied. "I'm taking you somewhere else." There was no anger in his voice, no sadness, nothing that told Faith what was really going through her dad's head. It was nothing like the voice she remembered from the very early days of her childhood, but he was nothing like the caring father who had encouraged her, and laughed with her, and soothed away her frustrations. She wondered if that man still existed somewhere behind those cold blue eyes, and her heart twisted in sorrow.

"I'm not leaving." It probably wasn't wise to argue with him, but Faith was beyond caring about the wisdom behind her actions. "I can take care of myself."

"You'll do what you're told." Faith bristled at his tone. There was little inflection, but the words stung.

"How dare you," she hissed. "What gives you the right to come back out of nowhere after thirteen years and make demands? I have a life here. I have school, and friends. I have a family—a real family, one that won't just abandon me at the first sign of trouble." _And God knows I've been in enough trouble._ "I don't need you. And I certainly don't need to be dumped on another one of your old beer drinking buddies."

He listened patiently, face blank. And then, faster than Faith would have imagined, he snapped a handcuff over her wrist.

"I don't think you understand the situation," he said. "You're in danger, Faith. And you're putting Duo's family in danger, too."

Faith tugged against the cuff, testing it. She could free herself without much trouble, but it seemed like a better idea to stick around for the moment. Maybe he'd drop his guard and she could escape. Maybe, if she pretended to go along with him, he'd tell her what was going on. Duo never had. Her dad tugged back, pulling her closer to his side than she liked.

"Of course I don't understand the situation," she said, faking calm. "Nobody ever explained any of this to me. All I know is that you and Mom got into a horrible argument one night and handed me over to Duo in a parking lot. You promised you'd come back. I never thought it would take this long."

He frowned. _Aha! So he does have more than one facial expression._"You remember all that?"

"I remember everything," Faith said. He could interpret that as he would; it didn't seem necessary to explain that she meant it literally. "Are you going to explain any of this to me? Because I promise to make your life hell if you don't."

His mouth quirked. Faith thought it might have been a smile, but she wasn't sure. It would be nice if he had a sense of humor under all that doom and gloom seriousness, she decided.

"We'll see," he said. "Right now we need to get off the streets. Are you walking, or am I dragging you?"

"That depends." Faith held back a smile of her own. "Where are we going? I don't want any of my friends to see me handcuffed to you like this. Can't have them thinking I'm into creepy old men, now, can I?"

"I'm not that old," he protested, leading her toward home. "And I don't have any beer drinking buddies, either."

"At least you're not arguing about the creepy part." Faith muttered. "You look like a hobo, Dad. And seriously, when was the last time you showered? Gross."

"It's a disguise," he grumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

He didn't seem happy, but some of the tension seemed to ease out of his shoulders. He'd dropped his guard, just for a second, and Faith caught a glimpse of the Dad she remembered from before. She followed, a little less unwilling now that it seemed like he might be open to compromise.

* * *

><p>Duo's place wouldn't be safe for Faith for much longer, but it was easier than taking Faith anywhere else. Heero had a feeling that she'd cause trouble if he tried taking her back to his hotel. And, although they'd eventually need to get off the colony, spaceport security was too tight to drag her around in handcuffs. He had no doubt that she'd slip away before they got to his shuttle if he released her, though.<p>

She was entirely too much like her mother. If it wasn't so dangerous, it would be endearing.

Faith fumbled with her keys at the door—they'd somehow managed to beat Duo home, despite being on foot—but it flew open before she got them in the lock.

"Fay! Watch out—that creepy homeless guy is back and he's right behind you!"

The neighbor girl peered out nervously at Heero. Faith had called him creepy, too. Well, he decided, if they wanted creepy, he'd give it to them. He stared back at her until she blushed and looked away.

"No crap, Maggie," Faith muttered. "Way to use your elite observation skills. Let us in before somebody else sees."

"Watch your language," Heero said, tugging on his end of the handcuffs. He wouldn't hit her—he would _never_ hit her—but he wanted to make sure he got his point across. Faith only glared.

"You may be my dad, but that doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do," Faith said, tugging back. "If you wanted that privilege, you should have come back years ago."

Heero wondered how long it would be before Faith stopped accusing him of abandoning her. He wouldn't stoop to bribery—at least not yet—but he hoped she'd settle down soon. Faith pushed past Maggie into the house, half-dragging Heero behind her. Maggie stepped back, looking shocked. She twirled a lock of red hair around one finger and stared open-mouthed.

"Homeless Guy is your dad, Fay? Seriously?"

He had a nickname. Heero wondered how long it had taken the girls to notice him. He'd only been watching over them for a few days; up until then, he'd been tracking Faith's two stalkers exclusively.

"Seriously. I don't know if he's really homeless, Maggie. But—homeless or not—he's still kind of a bum." Faith dropped her keys in a bowl by the door and kicked her shoes off in the entry way. "Shoes, Dad. No way are you tracking who-knows-what onto the carpet I just finished steam cleaning."

Heero decided not to ask why Faith had been steaming the carpets, even if it was a weird thing for a teenager to be doing. He'd had about enough of her attitude, and ignoring the comments was better than taking her bait and leaving himself open to more ridicule.

"He smells homeless," Maggie said. "Are you sure he's your dad?"

Faith sighed. "Pretty sure, Maggie. Be happy. It looks like we finally found somebody who's a bigger loser than your dad."

"Sweet. It's hard to find somebody who's a bigger loser than a guy who spends his free time getting trashed on cough syrup."

"I am standing right here, and I can hear all of this. It's not polite to talk about other people like that," Heero said. He wondered what Duo would do if he heard the girls talking around him. "And I'm not homeless."

Well. Technically he was homeless, since he hadn't settled on a new permanent location since leaving Earth, but he didn't think Faith and her little friend needed to know that. He had the resources to find a place, but not the time. For the moment, it was easier to just live out of his suitcase.

"BS, Dad," Faith said. "Mom totally threw you out. Hilde told me. She said you'd probably show up to kidnap me, and I should run into the nearest building and tell them you're a pervert."

It was definitely a good thing he hadn't taken her back to his hotel. Heero made a mental note to tell Duo to have a long talk with his wife when she got out of the hospital. The last thing he needed was to end up on some government-monitored sex offender list when he was trying to hunt down the terrorists that wanted to kill his daughter.

"I'm not a pervert," he protested.

"The handcuffs say otherwise," Faith pointed out. "You really were thinking about just kidnapping me, weren't you? What changed your mind?"

"Nothing I want to talk about right now," he said. "I'll tell you anything you want later, but it's not—"

Outside, car doors slammed. Faith made a face.

"Hold that thought," she said. "I'm going to hit the shower. I don't want to be up until midnight while the boys hog all the hot water. Oh, and next time? Don't bother with the handcuffs."

She trotted cheerfully out of the entry way, her long, chocolate braid bouncing behind her. Heero stared at the empty handcuff attached to his wrist and wondered how she'd slipped it without him noticing. _Duo must have taught her that,_ he thought. It was probably just as well—she'd have a better chance of getting away if a real kidnapper ever grabbed her.

"Don't look so surprised," Maggie said. "Faith just has a way with people. Nobody ever seems to notice what she's up to until it's too late."

"Shouldn't you be going home?" he asked Maggie, hoping to get rid of the girl so he could talk to Duo. It was going to be hard enough with Duo's own kids around. He could hear the boys clattering through the house; they'd obviously come in through the garage.

"I don't think so," Maggie said. "Did you miss the part about my dad being trashed? If I go to school with one more black eye, I'm going to end up in foster care. They'll probably send me to a different colony, and then I won't be able to see Faith anymore. Duo doesn't mind if I crash here when Dad's on a bender. He even lets me babysit so I have an excuse for not being at home. He's cool."

"Damn right I'm cool," Duo said, popping around the corner and ruffling Maggie's curls. "Lexi's in bed?"

"For now," Maggie said. "She'll probably get up now that everybody's home. You know how she is, Duo."

"Well, try to keep her busy, will you?" Duo asked. "I need to take care of some business and she probably shouldn't be underfoot. Heero, why don't you come into the office? Trowa should be along any minute now, and then we can figure out what to do."

Heero nodded and followed Duo to his home office. It would be good to rest a minute and try to make sense of what had happened during the last hour. Faith wasn't what he'd expected. She was so much more, in so many ways, and although he deserved every bit of her scrutiny, it burned him that she'd talk to him so scornfully. A few minutes to collect his thoughts would be welcome.

* * *

><p>Notes: Many thanks to everyone who's reading this! I hope you're enjoying it. I also hope Heero isn't too out of character in this one...It really is a disguise. Uhm. Chapter Four is coming along. I'm trying for one a week, and so far I seem to be succeeding.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Heero was starting to doze before Trowa finally made it to Duo's. It was getting close to midnight, and he almost couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent night's sleep. Or a shower. He'd be glad when he could drop the act and assume a less distasteful persona.

He really did look like a bum. His hair was long enough that it brushed his collar and fell into his eyes, and he was sporting about a week's worth of scruffy beard. His jeans and t-shirt had come from the gardener's shed; he was only grateful that they didn't smell too strongly of fertilizer. He'd rescued his old running shoes from Relena's trash pile. At least they were comfortable clothes, even if they were a little worn.

"Sorry I'm late," Trowa said, letting himself into the office. "I stayed behind to clean up the mess our friend left at the café."

"Oh?" Heero said. He'd hoped Trowa would find the scene before the police. From the evidence, it seemed that the acrobat's tactical skills were still as sharp as ever. "Find anything?"

"Not much." Trowa dropped a handful of things on Duo's desk: a semi-automatic pistol, some cash, a hotel room key, and a broken mobile phone. "He didn't have any ID. No credit cards, either. It looks like he fell on the phone when he went down; I don't know if it's possible to extract any call logs or data from it now."

"If there is, Dak can find it," Duo offered. "The kid's a genius with electronics."

"Don't bother," Heero said. "If this one's anything like the others, the phone is clean. The hotel room is probably empty. And there was only one round in that magazine. It's the same, time and time again. If they don't kill themselves, they're killed in jail before they can give testimony."

Trowa ejected the pistol's magazine—it was empty, and so was the chamber. Duo took the phone and stepped out into the living room; the music that was playing stopped for a moment, but Heero couldn't hear what Duo said to Dak. He pocketed the hotel room key. He'd stayed there on a previous visit and knew his way around the building.

Their agreement was silent, but unwavering. Even if there was only a slim chance of finding new evidence, they were going to take it.

"Thanks," Heero said when Duo returned and settled back into his chair.

"Don't mention it," Trowa replied. Duo nodded.

"What are you planning to do about Faith?" Duo asked. "She'll never forgive you if you vanish again. I kept my part of this deal—I never told her about the bombings or the death threats—but you can't keep her in the dark forever, Heero. If somebody doesn't tell her the truth, she'll find it on her own."

Duo's words sounded too much like one of the band's songs. _We really can't be too careful anymore_, Heero thought. _We've been trying that for years, and it's not working._

"You know her better than I do," he said at last, a bit sadly. "Tell her whatever you think she can handle. I want her to understand what's going on, and I want her to be open to the possibility that she might not be safe here any longer."

"Oh, no," Duo protested. "You're not backing out of this. Faith is your kid, and this is your responsibility. You've been tracking these guys for years, and you're the one with all the intel."

"He's right," Trowa agreed. "Faith is smart, and she's usually a levelheaded kid. It's obvious that she still has some growing up to do, but I know she can comprehend anything you have to tell her. If you treat her like an adult, she'll probably act like one."

Heero nodded. There were no more easy outs. Duo and Trowa were good friends, and good allies, and they were right. It was time for him to face his daughter—and whatever grudges she might hold against him.

"I really screwed this up, didn't I?" he asked. Duo chuckled.

"Look on the bright side, buddy," he said. "Things could be a lot worse—those guys could have been spending this time planting bombs instead of just watching Faith walk back and forth to school."

"Hn." Heero couldn't argue with that. "Let's just hope that isn't their next course of action."

* * *

><p>Faith stifled a yawn and stopped herself from looking at the clock again. It was probably a quarter til midnight; it had been 11:43 last time she'd checked. They were all sitting in the living room—except Dak, who'd gleefully holed himself up in the garage with some busted old gadget Duo had given him—waiting to see what was going to happen. The twins were almost asleep, though, and Chris had been steadily getting stonier and stonier. Faith sighed. It was her call—they were her family, her best friends—and they'd wait with her until she was ready to quit.<p>

"This is crap," she said, as it was obvious that even Maggie's near-inexhaustible energy supply was running out. "I'm going to bed. If those guys have anything important to say, it can wait until morning."

"Thank God," Chris muttered. He stalked out, presumably to tell Dak not to wake him up at dark-thirty, since he headed for the garage door and not to their bedroom. The twins crept up the stairs, too tired to even pretend to race. Faith turned to Maggie.

"Couch or bed?" she asked. The couch was narrow and uncomfortable, but at least it was private. There was only one bed in the girls' room upstairs, and Lexi kicked and talked in her sleep.

"Couch," Maggie said. "Maybe I'll still be awake when they come out. I'll let you know if I hear anything juicy."

Faith grinned. "Thanks, Maggie." She shook Lexi awake. "C'mon, Lex. Bedtime. Get up—you're getting too heavy to carry anymore."

Alexa grunted and opened her eyes sleepily. "Don't wanna," she whined. "I'm not tired."

"Bull." Faith tried not to smile at her little sister, but it was hard. Four-year-old Lexi was hilarious, even when she was whiny. If Faith didn't watch it, she was going to end up spoiled rotten. "Get up, Lexi."

"Can I have my song?" Lexi asked. Faith sighed. Lexi only ever asked for the one song, and it was super awkward to sing it with her dad close enough that he might overhear.

"You really want that one?" she asked, trying to sound bored with it. "I don't like that one anymore. It makes Duo cry."

"I still like it," Lexi said. "It's my song. You play my song for me."

Lexi twirled her black hair around her index finger, a habit she'd picked up from Maggie, and shot Faith the puppy dog eyes. Laughing, Maggie joined in.

"Please, Fay, please! Pretty please with a cherry on top," they cajoled. Faith rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she grumbled, feeling like a pushover. "But you have to get in bed first. And no getting up and running around after it's over. You're staying put."

Lexi was off the couch and running upstairs before Faith finished talking. She sighed again and grabbed Duo's battered old guitar from its stand. Decent acoustic guitars were a rare find on their colony—probably because people snapped them up as soon as they went up for sale—but somehow Duo had managed to snag a real Martin for himself. Faith hoped she'd be able to get one of her own someday, but until then she'd borrow Duo's whenever the opportunity arose.

"G'night, Maggie," she said, giving her friend a mock salute as she followed her sister up to their room. "Don't forget, you're on gossip duty tonight."

"Gotcha, Fay," Maggie replied cheerfully. Somehow, even with all her problems, Maggie was always cheerful. "Night!"

Faith trudged up the stairs, ready to finish this one last chore so she could catch some sleep. It had been a long day—and now that her dad was back, she had no way of predicting what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

><p>The frame of light surrounding the office door clicked off. The kids had apparently gotten tired of waiting and had gone to bed. Heero was almost relieved—it meant he could put off talking to Faith for one more day. He still wasn't sure what to tell her.<p>

"They just left," Duo said, apparently picking up on the direction of his thoughts. "Now's a good time to talk to her if you want to get her up. Everybody else will stay out of your hair."

"It can wait until morning," Heero said. He showed Duo the hotel key he'd hidden in his pocket. "I want to check this out before somebody else comes along and destroys any possible evidence."

Duo nodded. "You're going there now?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?" he asked. "That's a pretty swanky place, and you're not exactly, uh, looking your best right now, buddy. They might not let you in."

"Duo," Trowa murmured warningly. "Don't start in on this. We've all fallen on hard times before."

Apparently, the disguise was better than Heero had thought. He glared at his friends. They, of all people, should have realized what was going on.

"Don't look at me like that," Heero grumbled. "I haven't fallen on hard times, and I don't need anybody's pity. I'm just trying to keep the paparazzi off my back. They've been hounding me ever since I left Earth, and demanding to know what's going on between Relena and me. It's distracting."

"So you're doing this on purpose?" Duo asked, incredulous. "Is it working?"

"As far as I can tell," Heero replied, eyeing the grime under his nails with disgust. "They're looking for a guy in a suit, somebody who's used to a certain standard of living. So far, nobody's thought to check the gutters."

Or the cheap hotel by the spaceport.

"Thank God," Duo muttered. "I didn't want to say anything, but I was starting to worry."

Heero stood up and stretched the creaks out of his back. Duo and Trowa were up, too; the meeting was adjourned. Duo stopped him when he reached for the door.

"Quiet," he said. "Maggie's probably sleeping on the couch. Poor kid."

Silently, Heero agreed with the assessment. When he was growing up, teenagers in Maggie's situation could join the military and get an education and job training in exchange for a few years of service. Now that there was no military, social services handled the situation, and their resources were spread pretty thin. A lot of kids slipped through the cracks. From what Heero could see, Maggie was one of the lucky ones.

He turned the doorknob slowly, but there was nothing he could do about the soft groan the hinges gave as the door swung open.

"Shh!" Maggie whispered, switching on a lamp so they could see. "The vent's open. Be quiet or she'll hear you!"

Heero could hear someone—undoubtedly Faith—tuning a guitar in another room. It sounded tinny and far-away through the vent.

"There," Faith said, strumming a chord. "Duo really ought to take better care of this. Okay, Lexi. This is it, I mean it—you're going to sleep after this. You've brushed your teeth and you've been to the bathroom, and there's a cup of water on the dresser. No more excuses, got it?"

"Got it, Fay," Lexi said. "I want my song."

"Ugh. Fine." Faith sounded like she just wanted to get it over with.

"Aw, crap," Duo whispered. "I hate when she plays this song. You want to come with me and check on Dak, Heero?"

Heero shook his head. He wanted to stay and listen, even if it was eavesdropping. At this point, he'd do anything for a chance to know Faith a little better.

"Your funeral, man," Duo muttered, walking out. Heero sat on the ottoman and listened to Faith play the opening chords.

_When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry  
>and curse at the wind.<br>He broke his own heart and I watched  
>as he tried to reassemble it…<em>

Heero shut his eyes tightly. _Son of a bitch_, he thought. _She was two. How could she possibly remember all this?_

"Remember," Trowa murmured, "Faith doesn't write music. This song was topping pop charts hundreds of years before she was born. I don't think it's a statement about you."

That didn't take the sting away, though. Even if Faith hadn't written the song, she had still chosen it. Heero sat silently until it ended and Maggie eased the vent shut.

"Go on without me, Trowa," he said. "I'm going to walk back."

"Want me to pick you up in the morning?" Trowa asked.

"No."

Trowa went out through the door Duo had used. Heero went back into the office to borrow some paper and a pen. The lights were out again when he was finished, but Heero felt Maggie's eyes on him as he crept up the stairs and slipped the paper under the door to the girls' room.

He left out the front door; he had nothing more to say to Duo, and he knew he'd be contacted if Dak found anything of interest on the cell phone.

* * *

><p>It was child's play to disable the alarms at the Lionsgate Hotel and sneak in through one of the fire exits. No one was roaming the halls at midnight, and Heero had no problem slipping into the dead man's room.<p>

A quick glance around the room told him that his suspect had been trained in the art of subterfuge at some point. But Heero's training had been better.

There was nothing beneath the mattress or under the bed. Nothing hidden on or under the desk. The bathroom was clean, and the closet was empty of all but a spare suit and a safe. Heero tried the safe. It was locked.

_It's possible that the safe is just empty,_ he thought doubtfully. But he hadn't survived as long as he had without learning to listen to his gut. He started searching again, more carefully this time.

The vents, light fixtures, and electrical sockets were clean. He sighed and looked around the room one last time. _The nightstand. How did I miss that?_

It seemed ordinary at first. It was made of cheap, manufactured wood with a thin veneer over the top to make it look more expensive. The bedside lamp clicked on and off; Heero didn't bother taking it apart to search the inside. It didn't rattle when he shook it, and there were no telltale marks to indicate that the suspect had hidden anything in the lamp base. He opened the drawer next and found only a bible, a condom, and a bottle of painkillers. The drawer didn't have a hidden compartment, but he pulled it out anyway and checked the space behind it. There was nothing but cobwebs where the maids hadn't been cleaning.

Just to be thorough, Heero emptied the drawer and flipped it over. A scrap of paper was taped there—_24-36-7_—along with a small key.

Heero tried the combination on the closet safe. _This is too easy_. The key turned smoothly in the lock, and the safe came open. Here was the man's ID—identification was required for space travel, so he'd _had_ to have one somewhere—credit cards, and a sheaf of papers.

Heero frowned. There was an agricultural license that gave the suspect, one Alan Novak, permission to start a hydroponic facility on the colony. It was attached to a permit allowing the purchase and use of ammonium nitrate, a common fertilizer. The other was the deed to a nearby resource satellite and a receipt for mining equipment.

On their own, the permits didn't seem suspicious. Hydroponic agriculture was a big business in the colonies, where importing high-quality food from Earth could be grossly expensive. And many colonists were resource miners. Quatre's family had made the better part of their fortune that way. But if Novak's business plans were so innocent, why keep everything locked up?

To Heero, the papers only meant one thing: Faith's stalkers had the intention and the means to cause serious trouble.

Nothing else in the room seemed suspicious. Heero used his phone camera to take photos of Novak's ID and papers, and returned everything to its proper place. When Novak's associates came to clean up, there'd be no sign that anyone had been snooping around. He left through the fire door and tossed the hotel key into the first trash can he passed.

In the morning, once the kids were in school, he'd meet with Duo and Trowa and make plans. Novak's death had probably bought them some time, but Heero wouldn't be able to relax until he was sure Novak's associates were in custody.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. Song lyrics are from Paramore, and I don't own them either. (And yeah, I know, The Only Exception is getting to be a cliche. Sorry. It just-fit.)<p>

Notes: I hope you enjoyed this! The next chapter is coming along; it starts out sappy, but I promise to end with a bang. :D Review or PM if you wish. If I have time, I'll read and review something of yours.


	5. Chapter 5

To her surprise, Faith wasn't the first one up. Duo was sitting at the kitchen table, staring into the coffee cup he cradled in his hands. He jumped when she plopped down beside him.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" she asked. He shot her a still-boyish grin in lieu of an answer to her question. Hilde wouldn't have let it slide, but Faith wasn't Hilde. She wasn't even going to try to convince Duo to take better care of himself; he was an adult, and he knew that he needed to be strong for his family. Faith had her own agenda, and she stuck to it.

"Tell me about my dad," she said. Duo sighed and reached around behind him for the coffee pot. He topped off his mug and took a sip. Faith waited; she knew he was trying to decide exactly what to say.

"He's kind of a strange guy," Duo offered. "I've known him for twenty years now, and sometimes I still think he might be crazy. There isn't much I can tell you for sure."

He took another long sip of coffee and stared thoughtfully into his mug, as if he searched the steam for answers.

"I do know this," he said at last. "He loves you a lot. Always has. And he's absolutely crazy about your mom. This whole situation is tearing him up inside, whether he'll admit it or not."

Anger flared. Faith kicked the table leg, wincing when she struck her toe. Duo silently mopped up spilled coffee with a napkin.

"Then why did he leave?" she demanded. "He could have at least called. Mom calls. Even if she won't tell me why things are the way they are, at least she cares enough to pick up the phone."

"Hey—your mom's just as guilty as he is," Duo admonished. "Leaving you here was her decision, too, even if she didn't like it."

"But _why_?" Faith asked, almost whining. She knew he wouldn't tell; this was a conversation they'd had many times before. Duo only drank his coffee.

"Here," he said, sliding a book across the table. "I was up all night trying to find this for you. Your dad let me borrow it years ago, back when you and Chris were born, and I never did get around to returning it."

Faith frowned. It was one of those weird baby books for expecting parents. It was dusty and old. The cover was creased and the pages were yellowing and dog-eared.

"He must have memorized it," Duo continued. "He underlined passages and made little notes in the margins. This might tell you more about your dad, and how much he really does care about you, than anything I have to say."

Faith picked it up; it opened automatically to a page about teething. Someone had bookmarked it years ago with a photograph. It was flipped upside down, but the back had been labeled in Duo's scrawl—_Heero and Faith, June 16, AC 200_. Her birthday. And Chris's, too, although they weren't twins, as people often assumed.

Duo rescued the photo from between the pages and flipped it over, grinning. He'd snatched it so fast that Faith didn't see the picture. She rolled her eyes. Duo could be as grabby as the boys sometimes.

"I'd forgotten this," Duo said, examining it. "He had no idea I took it. I walked into the nursery to see Chris and there he was, with you. He didn't even look up when the door opened. The camera was in my hand, and I couldn't resist taking a picture. I meant to give him a copy, but it just didn't happen. Here. Keep it."

"Thanks," Faith said. She stuck the picture back into the book without looking at it and stuffed the book into her school bag. She'd had enough sap for one morning. "Do you mind if I leave early this morning? I want to take care of a few things before class starts."

It wasn't a lie. She really did want to take care of something before class started—just not at school. Duo waved her away.

"Go on," he said. "You have your phone, right? I want you to call me if anybody starts following you; I'll come pick you up. We're not doing this stalker crap anymore. They're not going to go away if you just ignore them."

"I always have my phone." Faith dug it out of her schoolbag and waved it at him. "Never leave home without it."

"Good. Can you pick up Lexi from daycare on your way home?" Duo asked. "Hilde's coming home from the hospital today, and I want to be here in case she needs anything."

"No problem. See you, Duo!"

Her chair scraped across the floor as she hopped up. From the living room, Maggie groaned sleepily.

"Hey!" Duo complained. "You can't leave yet. You know these talks don't come cheap—and I don't take IOUs."

Faith laughed. It was silly of Duo to pretend to charge her for advice, but Faith thought it was cute. He pulled her into a hug, and she squeezed back as hard as she could.

"Keep the change," she said, pecking his cheek.

"Will do," he replied, releasing her. "You be careful out there."

"You know I will."

* * *

><p>Heero woke with a start. It was just after six a.m., and he was sprawled facedown on his uncomfortable hotel bed. It was still hard to sleep alone. Relena had seemed to prefer him to her pillow; it used to annoy him, but now he missed it.<p>

His spine tingled, like someone was watching him, but there didn't seem to be anyone in the room. The door hadn't opened, as far as he could tell, and the only sound was his own slightly ragged breathing.

_Somebody's here_, he thought, shaking off the homesickness. _Should've noticed it sooner. I'm getting soft._

He sat up as quietly as he could and pulled his jeans on in the dark, looking around for signs of intrusion. Nothing had been disturbed, but he could see a shadow outside the door. _They've found me_, he thought. _This is the last thing I need right now._

He grabbed his Glock off the nightstand and jerked the door open, hoping to scare the piss out of some poor, stupid reporter. It was a huge relief to see Faith standing in the hall, staring at him with wide eyes, even if it took him a second to remember how she knew where he was. _Right_. _I left her that note. It's too early for this…_

"Let me guess. You haven't had your coffee yet," she said, tensing slightly when she noticed the gun in his hand. "You're not really a morning person, are you, Dad?"

Heero shoved the pistol into his waistband. She didn't look frightened, but then, she didn't seem like the type that scared easily.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning at her. "It's annoying, having you just standing around out there. I gave you a key for a reason, Faith."

He had given her his spare key, too—it had been wrapped in the note, and she must have found the note since she knew where he was staying. But he was glad she hadn't used the key; he probably would have shot her by mistake if she'd simply let herself in.

"Have you met Duo? You know, the guy you left me with? Or any of his _four_ sons?" she asked. "I learned _real_ quick not to walk into a guy's room without knocking first. They're always—_always—_in the middle of doing something gross. But I'd rather not talk about that. Or even think about that. How did you know I was here?"

He decided not to tell her that he'd been asleep. She'd say something snarky, and it was entirely too early for sarcasm.

"I saw your feet at the bottom of the door," he said. He stepped back, giving her a little space. "Come in. Sit down. We should probably talk."

It was the understatement of the century. Probably. Yeah, right. They should have talked years ago; he could see that now. But it seemed to satisfy Faith.

She edged past him, clearly uncomfortable with his proximity, and examined his room. He wondered what she saw, and how it altered her perception of him. After a long moment, she pulled out the desk chair and perched on its edge. She seemed uncomfortable. He wasn't surprised—it wasn't a comfortable room.

Coffee. He needed coffee. And there wasn't a decent cup to be had anywhere in the building—he knew. It was so early that Faith had probably run out without breakfast, too. Well. That was easy enough to fix. There was a quiet place across the street, and the booths offered a relative degree of privacy.

"I need a minute," he said. He started to put his Glock back on the nightstand and hesitated. "Are you going to play with this if I leave it out here?"

"Of course I'm not going to play with it. Guns aren't toys, Dad." Faith looked at him with too-innocent eyes. "But I am going to take it apart. Just so you know."

At least she was honest. He ejected the magazine and removed the chambered round before handing the gun to her.

Faith pointed the gun at the wall and racked the slide a couple of times before pulling the trigger and releasing the slide. Heero grabbed his suitcase and left her to it; she obviously knew what she was doing, and he didn't think she'd hurt anything.

"Put it back together when you're done," he said. "You've got five minutes. Ten, tops."

He could field strip the Glock and reassemble it in less than a minute. Ten minutes would give Faith enough time to satisfy her curiosity, and Heero enough time to take a fast shower and shave.

* * *

><p>It took Faith two minutes to take her dad's gun apart and reassemble it. Duo didn't have anything quite like it, but it wasn't dissimilar to Trowa's Preventer-issued Glock. The main difference was that Trowa's gun had been fitted with additional safety features, and her dad's hadn't.<p>

Somehow, that didn't surprise her. Any man who would hand a gun to a fifteen-year-old, leave the loaded magazine on his nightstand, and walk out of the room, was probably not overly concerned with firearm safety.

Faith left the assembled gun on the desk—to avoid the temptation to load it—and wandered around the room. The shower was still running, so she figured she had a little time to poke around.

The room was pretty standard—ugly bedspread and drapes, worn carpet, poor lighting, cheap furniture. There were some dubious stains on the armchair, which was why Faith had opted to sit at the desk earlier. She avoided the bed on principle—hotel beds were gross. Period.

There had been little to interest her on the desk, except a laptop that she couldn't unlock, and there were only empty hangers and an ironing board in the closet. Faith eased the closet door shut with a sigh. It seemed that there were no personal details in the room, nothing that might tell her what kind of man her dad was. She walked over to the nightstand. She wasn't going to load the gun, but just looking at the magazine wouldn't hurt anything.

It wasn't all that exciting, really. There were fifteen little .40 caliber bullets; Faith didn't take any out for a closer examination. She set it back in its place and pulled out the nightstand drawer. She didn't expect to find anything in there, either, but her dad was still in the bathroom and she was bored.

"Holy crap," she murmured. "I don't believe it."

There in the drawer, nestled between a bible and a box of tissues, was a small, pink rabbit. His fur was worn and nappy, and his jaunty blue bow—_"Silly! That's how you know he's a boy, Dad!"_—had seen better days, but Faith would have known him anywhere. Tears pricked her eyes.

"What are you doing?" her dad asked, startling her. She hadn't heard the bathroom door open.

"Looking for a tissue," Faith lied, swiping one from the box and quickly closing the nightstand drawer. She blew her nose and tossed the tissue into the trash. "There. All better!"

"You're a lousy liar," her dad said. "Take it if you want it—it is yours, after all."

Faith shook her head. Her dad shrugged. He loaded his gun and tucked it into a shoulder holster hidden under his jacket. He was wearing a suit today instead of the torn up jeans and t-shirt she'd grown accustomed to seeing, and he'd shaved off that awful beard. He would have looked almost respectable if his hair wasn't falling into his eyes.

"Do you have a permit to conceal and carry?" Faith asked, wanting to change the subject. Her dad's frosty glare made her uncomfortable; she'd been snooping and he'd caught her red-handed. It was embarrassing. He dug out his wallet flashed a Preventer ID.

"Happy?" he asked, holding the door open for her.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be," he replied, not quite looking at her. "I sort of expected it. It's the same thing I would have done. Of course, I wouldn't have gotten caught."

"Sure, Dad." The mild scolding—she thought it might have even been a joke—eased the awkwardness away. Faith knew how to respond to that. "Whatever."

She let him lead her down the hall and through the lobby; he seemed to have a destination in mind, and she didn't have to be at school for a while yet. He'd said last night that he would tell her anything she wanted, and she planned to hold him to it.

* * *

><p>The diner was as dingy and unpleasant as the hotel, but at least the coffee was fresh. Heero's glaring had earned them a booth by the window farthest from the hostess station, and the hostess had obviously warned their server that he was unpleasant. The woman had brought them coffee and juice and disappeared, giving them a bit of privacy.<p>

Faith was quiet; he assumed that she was waiting for him to start. He still didn't know what to say, and the silence was getting awkward.

"How's school?" he asked, testing the waters. Faith raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," she replied slowly. "Please tell me you aren't trying to make small talk. It doesn't suit you."

He scowled at her. She seemed unfazed.

"Sorry, Dad," she said. "I seem to be immune to the effects of your death glare. That poor waitress wasn't, though. I hope you weren't planning on ordering anything else—I don't think she's coming back."

"Are you hungry?" he asked. She shook her head. "Then don't worry about it."

Heero let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and clutched his coffee cup in both hands. This wasn't going well. He'd let things slide for too long, and his confidence was shot. Maybe it would be better to let Faith lead the conversation.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"How much can you tell me in an hour?" she countered. "I can't be late for school. One more demerit and I'll be stuck tutoring freshmen in detention for the rest of the semester. Frankly, six weeks of that was enough for me."

"I thought you said school was fine," he said, teasing her a little, trying to prove that he could manage small talk just as well as anybody else. "How'd you get stuck in detention?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "It totally wasn't my fault. My jackass lab partner got into the chemistry supply closet when the instructor was out of the lab and poured hydrochloric acid into a bottle of bleach. It caused this massive chlorine gas cloud, and the whole school had to evacuate. Nobody was hurt, luckily, so Len was only suspended for a week. But I got in trouble, too, because I'm apparently supposed to be Lenny's babysitter when the teacher isn't there. It was so unfair."

Privately, Heero was glad he'd never had to worry much about school. He'd gotten his high school equivalency after the war and had earned his degree through correspondence. Easy-peasy. No teachers, lectures, or lab partners to worry about.

"At least this is my last semester," Faith continued. "Two more months and then I'm done. I've already been accepted to my first-choice college, too."

Heero choked on his coffee. "College?" he coughed. "But you're only fifteen."

"Way to go, Dad. You can count. If you can learn how to breathe and drink at the same time, you'll be set for life," Faith muttered. "I could have passed the test and graduated two years ago, but Duo wouldn't let me. He said I was too young. And now he's saying that he'll sign the papers so I can graduate, but I can't go to school on Earth because he needs me here to help take care of things around the house until Hilde gets better." She pouted. "I have a full scholarship and everything. And it's not like Chris and Dak can't be trained to pick up after themselves. Ugh."

_Fifteen is still too young_, Heero thought. _Damn._ Faith set him on edge, somehow; he knew he should be proud of her achievements, but he was really just shocked. She had grown up too fast, and he'd missed all the best parts. He stared out the window, trying to collect himself. Someone had parked a panel van right on the sidewalk, though, so there wasn't much to see. He didn't look around the restaurant. Business was starting to pick up, and he didn't want anyone to recognize him now that he'd cleaned up and ditched the disguise.

"We're wasting time," Faith said, glancing at her watch. "Dad, why are you here? What do you want from me?"

The rapidfire switch from casual conversation to serious business reminded Heero of Relena. Faith might have taken after him in looks, but there was no denying that she was Relena's daughter. It cheered him and saddened him all at once.

_Relena_. He didn't want to think about her. It was still too raw, too new. And worse, the tabloids all said she was seeing someone. They weren't even divorced yet, and she was already moving on. It sucked.

Faith cleared her throat, drawing him back to the situation at hand.

"I just want you to be safe," he said. "It's a long story. I'm not sure we have time for all of it now."

Faith sighed. "I can miss homeroom, I guess. Dak will cover for me if I don't show up."

Heero nodded. "I think I'll just start at the beginning. How much do you know about the Eve Wars?"

"More than they teach in school," Faith replied. "Duo has told us a lot, but he won't tell us everything. I know that you fought in them, along with Duo and Trowa."

"That's good," Heero said. "I don't think we need to go into detail. Just know that we made a lot of enemies. Most of them aren't worth worrying about, so we don't. I used to get crazy letters in the mail all the time from people who'd managed to track me down, and I'd usually just toss them in the trash. I don't get them so much anymore—I think people are finally starting to forget."

Heero realized he was starting to go off on a tangent and stopped himself. He took a sip of coffee and started again.

"I wasn't the only one getting threats, though. Your mom got them all the time, too, from people who thought the war shouldn't have ended, or from people with different political slants. So, after you were born, we weren't really surprised when you started getting them."

Faith stirred her juice with her straw. She slouched a little in her seat, and she'd slung her absurdly long braid over one shoulder. Her expression was soft, almost vacant. She'd learned the smokescreen act from Duo, he guessed, and he was glad. To the casual observer, she was just another schoolgirl taking it easy before class. Nobody'd ever guess, just from looking at her, that she had just learned that people had been threatening to kill her since the day she was born. But Heero wasn't a casual observer. He recognized the intense focus in her blue eyes, and it was a relief to see that she was taking him seriously.

"Did those letters just go in the trash, too?" Faith asked. From her tone, he wondered if she was joking. But there was nothing jovial in her expression.

"No. We weren't taking chances with your safety. Most of them were nothing, just crazy people wanting attention. We had to take out a couple of restraining orders, but it wasn't serious. As hard as we tried to keep you out of the public eye, and give you a normal childhood, your mom's political career and my past made you a public figure." Heero finished off his stone-cold coffee and wished the waitress would bring a refill. He wasn't used to talking this much. "It wasn't ideal."

"So that's why you gave me to Duo?" Faith asked. He shook his head.

"I'm still getting to that," he said. "There were two big incidents behind that decision. The first one happened on our third anniversary. Relena liked celebrating little milestones like that, and I usually just went with it. We had reservations to go to this restaurant, all three of us, but you came down with a fever at the last minute. We were going to cancel, but Nina, our housekeeper, said she'd take care of you and we should go out anyway. So we did.

"We didn't call the restaurant before we left, so there was still a high chair at our table for you. We didn't need it, but nobody moved it. It wasn't a big deal; by that point, we were used to making accommodations for you, and we barely noticed the extra chair. We ordered drinks and danced—your mom loves to dance. Everything seemed fine. And then, just as the song ended and we went back to our seats, the high chair exploded."

"Holy crap," Faith muttered. "Was anybody hurt?"

"Not seriously. We were seated in a corner, off to the side, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. But it probably would have killed you."

Faith made a face. "Woulda, coulda, shoulda, Dad. Chill. I'm not dead yet."

"Hn." He didn't have a good response for that. "How are we doing on time? We can pick this up later if we need to."

Faith checked her watch. "I'd better go," she said, sighing. "This sucks. I hate when stories end in cliffhangers."

"It's not much of a story," he told her. "There's no happily ever after, I can tell you that much."

"Not yet," she replied. "But it isn't over 'til it's over, Dad. We're still breathing, after all."

He nodded. Faith's optimism was unwarranted, though; he knew that things were probably going to get a lot worse before they got better. If they ever got better. But he wasn't ready to let her down yet. He wanted her to be able to hang onto her happiness for as long as she could.

He dug out his wallet and left a five on the table for their drinks. The waitress could keep the change. He didn't care.

Faith straightened her skirt and reached for her bag. Movement outside caught Heero's eye; it was only a man punching a number into his cell phone, but something about the guy's expression was off. Heero listened to his instincts and hauled Faith away from the window as the man hit the Call button and the panel van outside went up in a ball of flames and shattered steel.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, I'd be living it up in my beachhouse in the Bahamas, not selling jewelry in a department store. Well. Maybe I'd still sell jewelry. It's kind of fun.<p>

Notes: Many thanks for all the reviews and favorites and story alerts! You guys are awesome!

This chapter's a little longer than the others, but I think it came out okay. Let me know what you think! As always, if you leave me a review, I'll try to review something of yours. I'm always happy to get reviews, or messages, or anything from you guys. Feedback is crucial to a writer, and, well, I'm just chatty in general. Ask Pretty in Orange if you don't believe me. lol


	6. Chapter 6

Time stopped. There was a heavy weight on her back, and Faith fought to breathe. It felt like drowning, but, unlike drowning, it didn't smell like chlorine and wet cement. Turmoil erupted around her and the only thing keeping her steady was the strong hand on her shoulder, and the familiar voice that she heard dimly over the ringing in her ears.

"Look to your left," her dad said. His voice was a shelter of calm in a firestorm of chaos. Faith turned her head slowly and felt time start moving again. People were gathered at the main entrance, pushing one another in their panic. "I don't want to get caught up in that. We're going to go out through the kitchen. Stay right behind me and try not to slip in anything. Got it?"

"Y-yeah," Faith stammered. The weight lifted from her back, and she realized that she wasn't drowning. Her dad had shielded her from the worst of the explosion. She grabbed her schoolbag and followed him, shoes crunching in the debris.

The kitchen was empty; anyone inside had already gone out the emergency exit. The cooks had dropped whatever they were doing and escaped. The floor was a slippery mess of spilled drinks and broken eggs, and a small fire had begun on one of the stoves. Absently, Faith shut off the burner and moved the pan of charred sausage away from the residual heat.

"We don't have time to clean up," her dad said. "Come on."

He signaled her to wait inside as he drew his gun and peered out the door, checking for danger. Faith heard sirens outside. The police were taking control of the situation, and an emergency response team was already searching the dining room for trapped survivors. It was only a matter of time before someone made it into the kitchen.

"It's clear this way," her dad said, concealing the Glock again. "We'll get out through the alleys and head back to Duo's. Do you know the way?"

Faith nodded. "It'll take longer than if we go by the main roads," she said. Her voice sounded thin and frightened in her ears, and she hoped her dad wouldn't think she was weak.

"Then it's just going to take longer," he said. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Faith fought to unlock the door without letting her dad see how much her hands trembled. The doorknob turned just as she finally got the key into the lock, and she half-fell over the threshold and into Duo's arms.<p>

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "Why weren't you in school? We looked all over for you!"

Faith could only guess that classes had been canceled after the explosion. She wondered how long it had taken to get back to the house. It must have been a long time if Duo had had time to go to school and look for her. The television droned in the other room. Faith recognized the voices of the actors in Chris's favorite show and realized that the boys were home, too.

"The van exploded," Faith said. "It was right outside the window. My ears hurt. Everything is—ringing."

"I'm not surprised," Duo muttered. "What were you doing, huh?"

Faith couldn't formulate an appropriate answer, so she didn't say anything. She stumbled past Duo into the house, leaving her dad on the step.

"I think she's in shock," her dad said. "She stopped twice to ask me if her eyebrows were still there. Except for that, she hasn't said a word."

It got a chuckle out of Duo. "If she's worried about her eyebrows, she'll be fine," he said. "She's a tough kid."

Silently, Faith concurred. But she made a promise to herself to hide the television remote to get back at Duo for laughing at her. She dropped her schoolbag on the floor in the atrium and knelt to pull off one of her shoes. It was filthy. She'd left a trail of disgusting, sticky shoeprints from the door to the wall where she'd chosen to sit. At least the tiled floor would be easy to mop later.

Her legs were striped with blood, and it was soaking into her white socks. Although her dad had tried to protect her from the worst of the explosion and flying debris, her knee-length skirt had made complete salvation impossible. Her calves were a roadmap of scratches. The thought that they looked like candy canes popped into her head and she had to work to stifle a giggle. She didn't need her dad or Duo thinking she was crazy; it was just the adrenaline rush. The adrenaline kept the worst of the pain at bay, too, but she knew it would sting like a bitch later.

"Anything serious?" Duo asked, apparently still talking to her dad. "It looks like just scrapes and bruises, but sometimes it's hard to tell with her. She broke her arm at school once. It was a week before she told us that she'd hurt herself."

Faith shuddered, remembering. _September 23, AC 208, 1:33 p.m_. She'd been eight. The school nurse had told her she'd been stung by an insect on the playground and sent her back to class. Faith hadn't seen a bug, but she'd never been stung before, either, so maybe that was just how it worked. In the end, she had simply accepted the nurse's ice pack and walked back to her class. The following week of trying to tough it out had been hell, and Faith fought to push the memory back. Thinking about it made her right arm throb. It was suddenly difficult to get her other shoe off.

"Hn," her dad said. It seemed to be his catch-all response. "Physically, she seems okay. I'm not sure about the rest—like I said, she's been...quiet. It doesn't seem normal for her."

Anger surged. Her self control was shot after a near-sleepless night followed by a morning of stress and terror. Faith jerked her foot free and hurled her shoe as hard as she could. Her aim was good; if her dad hadn't caught it, it would have hit him square in the chest.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" she cried. "How the hell would you know what's normal for me? You can't just show up out of the blue and act like you know me. It doesn't work that way!"

"Faith—" Duo started.

"No!" she interrupted, climbing to her feet. "I don't care. I don't want to hear it! I've had _enough_ for one day, and I don't see any reason why I should have to go along with this any longer. If you love my dad so much, you can have him. But I am done. If he really wanted me, he wouldn't have left me here in the first place."

"I don't know what's going on here, but I'm sure it's _all_ your fault," she continued, turning to her dad. "Just leave, okay? Go back to wherever it is you came from, and just leave me the _fuck_ alone. I never want to see you again! Ever!"

Faith dashed upstairs and slammed the bathroom door shut behind her. She didn't bother getting undressed before climbing into the tub and turning on the shower; her clothes were ruined anyway. She sat in the bathtub, drew her knees up to her chest, and cried as the cold water rained down over her.

* * *

><p>The house was silent. Someone had shut off the TV, and the only sound was the shower running upstairs. Heero realized he was clutching Faith's shoe. Relena threw her shoes when she was mad, too. He wondered if it was hereditary. It was kind of funny when he thought about it.<p>

He shook himself out of a reverie and set the shoe next to its mate. Duo looked embarrassed.

"She'll be fine," he said sympathetically. "Kids always say stuff like that when they're upset. They get over it."

Heero wasn't reassured. He'd known that reuniting with Faith wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't counted on it being this hard either. The only good part of all this was the knowledge that she'd turn her temper on Duo, too. It wasn't just him.

"That—was—awesome." It was Chris. The boys had all come in and were standing in the doorway. "I've never heard Fay drop an F-bomb before. What did you do?"

"Let us know next time, so we can record it," one of the twins said. Heero wasn't sure which boy was which; the two ten-year-olds were carbon copies with Hilde's black hair and Duo's mischievous features. "I'm going to make it my new ringtone."

Dak rolled his eyes. "You guys are losers," he said. "I'm going back to the garage."

He stalked away, still cursing to himself. For all that Dak was only thirteen, Heero thought he might be the smartest one of the bunch. And that included Duo.

Duo sighed. "Out. All of you. Go watch TV, or play video games, or whatever. Stay in the house, don't bother Faith, and let your mom rest."

"Mom's already up," Dak called from another room. "She's gone to check on Fay. You guys are gonna be dead when she gets done in there."

"Ya think?" Duo muttered. "Shit. Her first day back from the hospital and _this_ happens. Dammit. It's always something."

"I can see to Faith if Hilde needs to rest," Heero offered. "I should go talk to her anyway."

"No you shouldn't." Duo shook his head. "Give her a chance to cool off first. Downstairs bathroom is through the kitchen. Go get cleaned up, and then give it a try. She's pretty forgiving; she just isn't as used to bombings as we were at that age."

Heero nodded. "Call Trowa," he said. "I think I have a lead. I may not need to uproot Faith right away after all. It might be better if we do this gradually."

"Who said anything about uprooting Faith?" Duo asked, frowning. "She's old enough to decide where she wants to stay, Heero. If you try to force her into anything, she's just going to resent you."

It seemed like Faith already resented him. It didn't matter. He could deal with resentment if it meant she would be safe.

"That van didn't just blow itself up, Duo. It was a bomb, and it was meant for her." Heero tried to keep from raising his voice. If there was anything that got him truly angry, it was people threatening his daughter. "Today's incident proves that the ones who are after Faith don't care about anyone who gets in their way. What do you think is going to happen to your family if she stays here?"

Duo looked away. Heero knew that he'd gotten his point across, but it didn't feel like a victory. He started for the bathroom. It hadn't been a powerful explosion, and his clothing had been enough to protect him from the worst of the blast, but he thought he'd try to clean up a little.

"Call Trowa," he repeated tersely. Duo sighed and went to use the phone in his office.

* * *

><p>Faith perched on the edge of the bathtub, shivering in the boxers and tank top Hilde had found for her. One foot rested in Hilde's lap; the other leg was outstretched so the liquid sutures wouldn't glue her to the tub. Hilde sat on the closed toilet, her bald head bent over Faith's leg as she picked splinters and shards of glass out of Faith's cuts with a pair of tweezers.<p>

"I feel terrible," Faith confessed.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Hilde replied. "You're a wreck. Look at all this!"

She gestured to the dish she'd been using to hold the bits and pieces she'd tweezed out of Faith's skin. Faith didn't want to look. It turned her stomach.

"No," she said. "I mean about all the stuff I said to Duo and my dad. I shouldn't have lost it like that."

Hilde shrugged. "You were upset, honey. Trust me, they understand. Everybody has their breaking point; they know that."

Faith sighed. Things had been going so well, too. She was almost starting to, well, if not _like_ her dad, then at least dislike him less. He seemed to be trying, even if that didn't make him any less of a jackass.

"Your mom called earlier," Hilde said. Faith hissed as she pulled a large shard of glass out of her leg. "Sorry, Fay. I know it hurts. Anyway. I want you to call her back as soon as we're done and let her know you're okay. She was worried."

"Sure," Faith agreed. It would be nice to talk to Mom. Their schedules rarely matched up well enough for them to really talk. "Thanks for doing this, Hilde. I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too," Hilde replied, pausing to look up at Faith. "Never get cancer, Faith. Chemo sucks. Duo's a better cook than the people who work in the hospital kitchen. And trust me, you don't want to go through a mastectomy."

Faith made a face. "I'm not worried about that," she said, sparing a glance at her flat chest. "If the Boob Fairy hasn't found the time to visit me by this point, I don't think she's ever going to. Maggie's a C-cup already, and she's almost a whole year younger than me! It's so unfair."

Hilde laughed; it almost made her look normal again. She checked Faith's leg for more shrapnel and, finding none, wiped it down with a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. Faith clenched her teeth and tried not to whimper. It tingled and hurt, but it was better than alcohol.

"The Boob Fairy. I love it. Is that how you kids refer to puberty these days?" Hilde chuckled. "Seriously, honey, you're just a late bloomer. Your dad was, too. We used to call him Stick Boy behind his back when we were teenagers. But you didn't hear that from me."

"You've known my dad a long time, haven't you?" Faith asked. Hilde nodded. "Will you tell me why he left me here? He started to tell me this morning, but we kind of got interrupted."

Hilde pursed her lips. It was a conspiracy that all the adults were in on—everybody knew what had happened, but they'd all agreed not to tell. Trowa seemed to be the only one out of the loop; he'd told Faith years ago that he would have let her in on the secret if he'd known the details. For that alone, she loved Trowa like he was family.

"He told me about the incident in the restaurant," Faith offered hopefully. "Somebody strapped a bomb to a high chair."

Hilde sprayed Faith's leg with liquid sutures as an excuse to think about what she wanted to say. She was much like Duo in that sense, using action to buy the time she needed to gather her thoughts. Faith waited patiently, blinking back tears as the gluey liquid stung in her cuts.

"In a minute. Go on into the bedroom; I'll clean up in here." Hilde looked a little greenish, and Faith figured the nausea was getting to her again. She crept out guiltily; knowing that there was nothing she could do for Hilde left her feeling helpless and horrible.

Faith used the connecting door to go into Duo and Hilde's bedroom rather than walk out into the hall. She could see someone's feet under the hall door, and she thought she knew who was eavesdropping. She wondered how long he'd stick around if the only thing to hear was Hilde being sick. There wasn't anything she could do to stop her dad from listening in, but she clicked the lock on the bedroom door to make it harder for him to interrupt.

She curled up on the bed and tried not to make herself too comfortable. It wasn't quite nine a.m., but Faith was ready to crash. The only thing keeping her awake was her desire to know why she'd been left behind.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Don't own it. But wouldn't it be awesome if I did?<p>

Notes: Thanks so much for all the kind reviews, messages, favorites and alerts! Nothing is more encouraging to a writer-trust me! I hope you're all enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. As always, review for me and I'll try to review something of yours. Please let me know if you have any questions, or if you think I'm doing something wrong. We're getting close to the end of the first "act" of this story, so things might get a little dramatic for the next few chapters.


	7. Chapter 7

Heero decided to go back downstairs when the bedroom lock clicked. Faith wasn't ready to see him yet and Trowa was waiting. He walked through the living room, past the boys and the television, and sat down in Duo's office.

"Rough morning?" Trowa asked, passing him a paper coffee cup from the place on the corner. He took it gratefully.

"You have no idea," Heero replied. "Duo. Can I borrow your monitor?"

"Sure," Duo said, sitting up and taking his feet off the desk. "What do you have?"

Heero connected his mobile phone to Duo's monitor and brought up the images he'd taken of Novak's documents.

"I took these pictures in the stalker's hotel room last night," he explained. "I wanted to see if you guys came to the same conclusion I did."

Duo shrugged. "It's just a bunch of permits and business licenses," he said after a moment. "Hydroponic agriculture and satellite mining. This is pretty typical stuff out here, Heero."

"You really let yourself go when you left the Preventers, didn't you?" Trowa shot an unreadable glance in Duo's direction. "You have to look deeper than that, Duo. Check out the permit for ammonium nitrate. In hydroponics, it's combined with potassium chloride and used as a fertilizer. But it's very reactive and highly combustible. That's why you need a special permit in order to bring it into a colony."

"So it'll explode," Duo said dismissively. Heero got the impression that he was fooling around; Duo wasn't usually this obtuse. "Lots of chemicals do that."

"The receipt for the mining equipment is itemized," Trowa continued. "He's got tools and machinery, protective gear for miners, and Tramex, a plastic explosive that's often used in space mining. It is all pretty typical stuff, but when you put it together, what do you get?"

The conclusion—an explosion—was obvious, but Heero wanted to be sure Duo understood the importance of these particular ingredients.

"Terrorists often use ammonium nitrate and Tramex in conjunction to create car bombs," he finished. "The components are easy to obtain and the bombs can be triggered remotely."

"And they set one off this morning," Duo muttered. "Shit. I thought we'd have more time than this."

"Apparently not," Heero said. "Did Dak find anything on that phone?"

"Oh. Yeah." Duo rummaged around in a desk drawer and pulled out the phone and a thumb drive. "The guy had deleted everything from the device itself, but Dak called the phone company up and told them that it was _his_ phone and he'd broken it, and they e-mailed him the records. He forwarded them to me just a few minutes ago. You've got call logs, text messages, voicemail and a few contacts. Everything but actual conversations. Dak said somebody with the right connections could probably get the tower info and track your guy's movements, too."

Heero was impressed. He'd never considered contacting the phone service before; he'd simply assumed that these jackasses were using disposable phones because it was what he would have done in their situation. _Damn_, he thought. _That was too easy and I missed it_._ What else have I overlooked?_

"Mind copying that for me?" Trowa asked. "Lady Une found out I was here and assigned me to active duty when the van blew up. I can run the contact information through our databases and see what comes up."

"No problem," Duo said cheerfully. He stuck a blank thumb drive into his computer and presented it to Trowa a few seconds later. "There. Now we all have one. Anything else?"

"Yes," Heero said. "What are we going to do about Faith? She can't stay here, but it's obvious that she doesn't want to leave."

"No," Duo agreed. "I've never seen a kid so obsessed with school. Well. Except maybe Dak, but he and Faith both go to Dalton, and they're all a bunch of brainiacs over there."

Heero knew Faith was smart—he'd seen it when she was a toddler—but that wasn't helping him now. He rested his chin on his fist and tried to think. What to do…?

"It has to seem like it's her choice," Trowa said. "You just have to figure out a way to make her an offer she can't refuse."

That was easier said than done, though. Heero didn't know Faith well enough to make that sort of offer. But from the look of things, Duo and Trowa weren't sure what to do either.

"Today was supposed to be the last day before half-term," Duo said. "The kids are out of school for the week. Make it sound temporary?"

"I'd rather not lie," Heero replied after a moment's thought. Once Faith realized it wasn't temporary, she'd cause trouble. She had her mother's temper and intelligence to spare. It was a potentially dangerous combination, and Heero worried that she'd hurt herself trying to get away from him.

"A week is a long time," Trowa said slowly. "We might be able to clear these guys out of the colony, anyway, and establish better surveillance of our own. It's definitely something to think about."

That, at least, wasn't a bad idea. Heero turned his attention to his cooling coffee. Duo and Trowa were deep in thought as well. The house was silent again, but this time it was a good kind of silence.

* * *

><p>Faith sat cross-legged on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. Hilde lay beside her, propped up on a stack of pillows, looking thin and sick. The aggressive cancer treatments had taken a lot out of her, but Hilde was strong and her blue eyes were still bright with good humor.<p>

"Okay, Faith," Hilde said. "Tell me exactly where your dad left off. Keep in mind, I can only tell you my part in this. I'm still not a hundred percent on your parents' motives, and I might never be. I don't try to read Heero. It isn't worth the headache."

"Is that really my dad's name?" Faith asked impulsively. She couldn't help herself, even if it was a stupid question. "It just seems kind of out there, you know?"

Hilde chuckled. "It may not be the name his mother gave him, but it's all he's got, honey. He's been Heero Yuy for twenty years now and I don't see him just going out and changing it on a whim. Now. Tell me where he left off. I'm getting tired, Fay."

"Right. He said that there were two big incidents behind their decision to leave me here. The first was a bombing at a restaurant on their anniversary. Somebody blew up a high chair that I should have been using."

It felt weird to talk about her past self. Her past life. Faith didn't remember much of her time with her parents, and even the bits she did remember were shadowed. They tried to shelter her a lot, it seemed, and they hadn't liked arguing or talking about serious things in front of her.

"Okay," Hilde said. "I know where we are, then. The second incident was also a bombing. These guys seem to like blowing stuff up, don't they? Let's see…I bet you even remember this. It was right after the Mars project really got going, and your mom was touring the colonies to secure support. She had a stop scheduled here, so we invited her to dinner. It was the first chance we'd gotten to see her since Zachary was born, and we wanted to show off the baby."

Hilde smiled, remembering, and Faith couldn't help smiling too. Dak had been a cute baby. And a cute toddler. And, well, Dak was just cute in general, even now. He tried hard to be a tough guy, like Chris, but he couldn't quite manage it. Not with that soft black hair that fell gently into his eyes, and that little dimple in his cheek that appeared every time he smiled. And certainly not with the way his whole face turned red every time she teased him—tough guys didn't blush to the tips of their ears like that.

Faith wondered if it was weird that she thought Dak was cute, since he was kind of her brother, but she decided not to ask. It wasn't like she meant it in _that _way, after all. She didn't have a crush on him or anything. He was just—cute.

"Anyway," Hilde continued, her voice pulling Faith back into the story, "Relena decided to come see us. And she called your dad and got him to come too. I was surprised he accepted—he wasn't working for her security detail anymore, and he usually didn't join her on her tour stops. It was too much stress on him and on you. By that point, he'd gotten a little paranoid about your safety and he hardly ever left you with anybody else."

"He seems like a paranoid guy in general," Faith muttered. Hilde pinched her lips together and tried not to laugh.

"I can't argue with that," she said. "Heero was leery about bringing you into another restaurant after the first incident, so their original plan was to leave you at their hotel with a couple of your mom's bodyguards. They changed their minds at the last minute, though. I don't know if it was because we were bringing our two boys or because you had gotten so good at sneaking away from your attendants, but they decided to bring you along. It was just as well."

"I hate when you guys say stuff like that," Faith complained. "You know something bad's going to happen next. It doesn't really add to the suspense; it just makes the story predictable."

Hilde whacked Faith with a throw pillow, laughing.

"Hey! Who's telling this story?" she demanded. "If you don't like it, you can change it when you tell it. Or I can just take my nap and leave you hanging."

"No, I'll be good," Faith said. "Sorry. I want to hear how it ends. Unless you really need to rest now, I mean."

"Good," Hilde muttered. "Now. Where was I? Oh, right. The restaurant. It was pretty typical, I guess. If there is such a thing as a typical dinner with two toddlers and a six month old at your table. Chris was throwing peas and crying. You wanted to play with the baby, and you were mad when we wouldn't let you. But Relena seemed happy, and that was all that mattered. She looked so tired…"

Faith frowned. "I do remember that. It was May twentieth, AC 203. Right?"

"That sounds about right. But some of us don't keep calendars in our heads like you do, Fay," Hilde said fondly. "Anyway, just as we had finally gotten Chris settled down, your mom's security detail got a call and rushed you guys back out. Someone had blown up your hotel room. The hotel caught fire. Four people died. I forget how many were injured. It was bad."

Faith felt a little sick. Four people had died just because someone wanted to kill her. She wondered if anyone had been killed when the van blew up.

"Your parents called us later that night, just before midnight," Hilde continued. "Someone had tipped off the press that you were in that room, and not at the restaurant with us. Officially, you were missing. It was horrible, but Heero saw an opportunity to put you someplace safe while he worked to find the people who were responsible. Duo and I agreed right away, and your dad put together some papers to make it look legitimate. He gave us adoption papers and as well as a forged birth certificate, and said we could decide what to tell people about you. We didn't know how long it was going to take—not only to find the terrorists, but to put them where they couldn't get at you. Heero swore he'd never kill anyone again after the wars were over, and court battles can take years."

On the surface, it made sense. But there were still too many things Faith didn't understand. Hilde wasn't finished, though.

"_You_ were the one thing that Heero didn't count on. Your parents knew you were ahead of other kids your age, but nobody had figured out just how far ahead," Hilde said. "And none of us thought you would remember everything so clearly. Most people can't remember things that happened when they were that little. You were supposed to just become part of our family, and we'd reintroduce you to your parents when the time was right."

That was one question answered. No wonder Duo and Hilde had tried so hard to get her to call them Mom and Dad when she was small. They'd given it up pretty quickly, though. It had only made her cry. Faith sighed. There was still so much more she wanted to know, and Hilde was beginning to droop. She'd doze off in a minute or two, whether they'd finished talking or not.

"Why didn't they try to stay in touch?" Faith asked. Maybe Hilde could manage one more question.

"Communications are too easy to trace nowadays," Hilde explained. "That could be how these terrorists found you after all this time. Remember the first guy who stalked you? The one who died in jail? That was right after your mom got tired of waiting for things to change and started calling us. I don't really know anything else for sure, Faith. You'll have to ask your dad about the rest."

"Yeah," Faith agreed. She would ask him, but she needed to work things out for herself first. Four people were dead all because of her. Five counting the stalker. Her dad was right. She was putting Duo's family—_her_ family—in danger. _I can't stay here_, she realized.

And that was that. She'd have to quit school. She'd lose her scholarship, and she might never get to go to college. The realization that her future had just gone down the tubes made her queasy. _I think I might throw up._

"I think I have to go," she whispered.

Hilde nodded. "I think I need that nap now," she said. "Make sure somebody gets Lexi from daycare soon. You know how much she hates it there."

_She doesn't get it_, Faith thought. _She doesn't get that I have to leave—for good—to keep everyone safe. _She took a deep breath and tried to keep her expression neutral. Hilde was sick and tired, and it wasn't fair to dump this on her all at once. Faith decided to play it cool for the moment, and ask Duo how to break it to her gently later.

"Okay," Faith said. "I guess I can go get her."

"Take one of the boys with you, Fay. I don't think they're going to try anything so soon after setting off a car bomb, but you never know."

Faith slipped out of the bedroom and went to find Dak. Walking Lexi home was the least she could do to show her gratitude to the woman who had given her so much.

* * *

><p>"Cathy wouldn't mind watching Faith," Trowa suggested. It was the most recent in a long list of ideas that had started out bad and ended up stupid. "When she was little, Faith always used to ask if she could run away and join the circus. She might be okay with it."<p>

"Pass," Heero muttered. "My daughter is not going to be a clown."

"Hey, it's harder than it looks," Trowa protested. "And it's only for a week—we can put her somewhere else if we can't get this colony clear before half-term ends."

Trowa did have a point there, Heero decided. "Put it on the list," he said at last.

"Why can't she just stay with Relena?" Duo asked. "I bet they'd both love that. Relena has plenty of security guards, at work and at home, so Faith would be safe, too."

Relena would love it. Heero knew she missed Faith, and she felt like she'd missed her chance at being a mother. She'd even gone so far as to invite her sister-in-law to live nearby, just so she could spend her free time with her nephew. But it wasn't the same. She wasn't happy.

"No," Heero said sadly. It felt like another nail in their relationship's coffin. "It would spread Relena's forces too thin. She doesn't hire enough security. She says if she really needs all those guards, it's a sign that she isn't doing her job right."

And, so far at least, Relena had apparently been doing her job very well. It had been a long time since anyone had seriously threatened Relena. Heero was willing to concede that she'd proved him wrong on that count. But this was different. He wasn't going to take any chances with Faith.

"What about Quatre?" Duo suggested. "He likes her well enough. And there are enough Maguanacs around to keep an eye on both of them."

"List," Heero said. Trowa nodded.

Duo scratched it down and read over the paper. And then he tore the list in half and fed it into his shredder. Heero wasn't surprised. He'd been considering something similar. From Trowa's expression, he gathered that the acrobat felt the same way.

"This is stupid," Duo said. "We're better than this—or we used to be. I think it's time to bring Faith in on this and see what she wants to do."

"I've been telling you that for years, Duo," Trowa said. "Controlling her life like this is only going to lead to resentment and defiance. She'll never respect you. Either of you. And she'll never trust you. Why do you think she's so eager to graduate and go to Earth? She's tired of living a lie."

Heero knew Trowa was right. He'd known from the start that it was probably the only way to do this. But Faith was an unknown element. Heero didn't understand her thought process or her personality. There was no way to predict what she might do, and her choices were almost certainly not going to be the ones he might have made for her. He sighed. There were too many ifs floating around.

"I'll talk to her," he said at last. The words were heavy and hard to say, but they felt right. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

"Good," Trowa replied. "I'm leaving. I'll head over to the local Preventer office and see what I can find about our supsects. Who knows? We might really be able to clear this place out within the week. You know how to contact me if you need anything."

"I'm going to get my things from that hotel," Heero said, deciding to put Faith off a for few more minutes. "I want to try and get Faith out of here tonight. The sooner the better."

They left Duo's office together. The twins were watching television in the living room, but the rest of the house was oddly quiet. Duo frowned.

"Where'd everybody go?" he asked.

"Mom's upstairs sleeping." The boys spoke in unison, without looking away from the TV. "Everybody else went to get Lexi from daycare."

"Dammit!" Duo swore. Heero bit back a few choice words of his own. He did not like the thought of Faith wandering the streets without him when terrorists had tried to kill her only a few hours ago.

"I told them not to leave the house," Duo lectured the boys. "And quit talking like that! It creeps people out."

The twins exchanged a rueful look. Heero wondered what it must be like to be so close to someone that they unconsciously knew what you were going to say before you said it. He wasn't sure he'd like it, but Mark and Luke didn't seem to mind. They even dressed alike, in slacks and polo shirts. At least the shirts were different colors.

"Sorry, Dad," one twin said.

"We can't help it," the other one added.

"Mom—" they started together. They stopped and glanced at each other. The one in the blue shirt looked away first.

The green-shirted twin shrugged. "Mom asked Fay to go get Lexi. I don't think she knew you told everybody to stay here."

"Crap," Duo muttered. "Okay. Trowa, go do your thing. Heero, go get your crap and get back here. I'll round up the kids. Boys, keep an eye on your mom."

"Got it, Dad," the twins said together.

"Sorry," the one in green said. He seemed to be the dominant one, at least for the moment. "If you ask us both, we both answer."

Trowa started to leave. Heero stayed behind; he'd wait until Duo left to find the kids, or he knew he'd end up searching for Faith on his own. He didn't have time to get lost wandering the colony streets. It was going to take long enough to go through the crowd of police and emergency service crews to get to his hotel.

"Mark, how long ago did they leave?" Duo asked.

"They should have been back by now," the green one—Mark—said.

"Nah," Luke, the one in blue, replied. "Lexi's slow and they've been letting her walk the whole way lately. Give them another five minutes or so."

"Oh, right," Mark said. "I didn't think about that."

Duo made an aggravated noise in the back of his throat. "Stay inside and take care of your mom," he repeated.

He walked out of the room, tension evident in his shoulders, and stopped in the atrium to retrieve his shoes. Heero followed. Someone had cleaned up the floor while they were in the office. It was spotless. Everyone's shoes had even been lined up neatly against the wall.

"Sorry," Duo said. "I'm pretty sure Faith is obsessive compulsive. She really freaks out if people wear their shoes in the house, or if little things get put out of order. And I'm sure you've noticed how clean everything is."

"Great," Heero said. He wondered if she was really obsessive compulsive; a lot of people just liked to keep things neat. Relena was a clean freak, too, and she wasn't neurotic. With her job and her hectic schedule, it made sense to keep everything organized.

Heero reached for his own shoes. Somebody had dropped something into the left one. He dug it out and couldn't quite suppress a smile.

"What?" Duo asked. Heero showed him the little electric calendar. There was a note, too, a tiny scrap of paper with only one word—_Sorry—_neatly handwritten in its exact center. "Oh. Heh. Faith's kept up with that a long time. I told you she's a forgiving kid."

Heero tucked it into his jacket pocket and crammed his shoes on. He could spare five minutes to help Duo round up the kids, he decided. He was tired of avoiding his daughter. It was time—past time—to make amends.

The sound of a wailing child startled them both. Duo made a face.

"Sounds like they're back," he said. "I guess somebody decided Lexi was too slow and carried her home after all."

He pulled the door open and Heero followed him outside. Chris had Lexi over one shoulder, and she was not happy about being carried around like a sack of potatoes. He set her down when they got into the yard, and she threw herself at Duo, still crying. Dak lagged behind. Both boys were flushed, their eyes red-rimmed.

"Why isn't Faith with you?" Duo asked. Dak looked at the ground. Chris bit his lip. Lexi screamed so loudly that Duo had to yell to be heard over her. "Hey! I asked you a question."

But Heero thought he already knew the answer. "They took her, didn't they?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dak whispered. "They threatened Lexi. Fay agreed to go with them as long as they left the rest of us alone."

"Shit."

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I'd be chilling at the beach right now instead of working like a slave. lol :D<p>

Notes: Thanks again for all the reviews, messages, favorites, and alerts! It is so encouraging to know that so many people out there are enjoying this. Have questions? Feel free to ask! And, as always, review me and I'll review something of yours.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes: This is an updated, revised version of Chapter 8. I apologize to anyone who read the earlier version; this is different, and you'll probably want to read it, too. A lot of it is the same, but I think this is better.**

* * *

><p><em>Faith only seemed calm on the outside. To look into her eyes was to see the depths of Earth's oceans from space—they were unreadable and perfect. But Dak knew she was upset from the slight tightness around her lips, and from the way she worried a scrap of paper in her hands. Faith didn't fidget unless she was nervous. <em>

"_I'll go with you_," _she said coolly to the man in the black suit. "If you leave my family alone—my _whole_ family—and never come back here again, I'll get into your car and let you take me anywhere you want."_

_The man smoothed his jacket with one hand and smiled. It was a devilish smile, Dak thought, and he didn't trust it._

"_Fay—" he started. _

"_Not now, Dak." She wouldn't look at him. "I believe this fellow and I have some business to discuss. Do we have a deal, or not?"_

_Lexi had a hold of the back of Faith's pants. She clung to Faith's leg and sobbed softly. Faith reached back with one hand to caress her hair and try to soothe her. Even facing four men with guns, Faith was somehow the strong one. Dak wanted to do something, anything, but his feet were rooted to the concrete. Chris looked like he was having the same problem; his face was a murderous mask, his fists clenched tightly, but he didn't move. _

"_Do we have a deal?" Faith repeated slowly. "I'm not asking for a lot."_

_One gesture was all it took. The armed men got back into their van and drove off. The tension eased out of Faith's shoulders and she turned her back on the man in the suit and knelt in front of Lexi._

"_Don't cry, baby," she murmured. "You're a big girl, Lex. You need to be good for Chris and Dak now."_

_She hugged Lexi then, and smoothed her pigtails one last time, and lovingly straightened her collar. She whispered something in Lexi's ear, too softly for anyone else to hear, and rocked back on her heels to wait for a response. Lexi nodded._

"_Good girl," Faith murmured._

_It was Chris's turn next—he got a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. And then Faith turned to Dak, and the fear in her eyes hit him like a fist in his stomach._

"_Take care of Lexi," she said. Her voice was thick with hidden meaning; Dak recognized the tone, but he didn't understand what she was trying to tell him. "Make sure she gets home okay, Dak."_

"_Y-yeah. Fay—"_

_She shook her head. "No more, Dak. This is something I have to do. You'll understand someday. I'm sure Duo and Mom will tell you all the truth now that so much of it is out in the open."_

_She hugged him tightly then—it was funny that he was taller, even though she was two years older—and kissed his cheek, and that was it. She was so warm. He shivered when she released him and backed away._

_The man in the suit held the car door open for her. He smiled ironically at them as Faith got in, and then he slid into the back seat with her. And then they were gone._

Dak shuddered at the memory, and knew the man in front of him saw the slight movement and read it for what it was. Faith and her dad had the same deep blue eyes, cold and unreadable to outsiders, but full of hidden meaning if you knew how to look.

And to Dak, Heero looked afraid, and angry, and helpless. Like Faith, there was more to Heero than most people saw on the surface. Chris, Dak knew, only saw the cold, calculating expression on his face, and was intimidated. For all that Chris liked to act the tough guy, he wasn't there yet. He just couldn't read people that well. Lexi didn't seem to see anything; her face was buried in Dad's shoulder as she cried. But Dak only saw a man who'd lost someone dear to him, and he wasn't afraid. He could relate to that.

There was barely enough room for eight people in Dad's office, even with extra chairs brought in from the kitchen, but no one was willing to leave. Mom had come downstairs in the initial commotion, and the twins were just indulging their excessive curiosity.

Heero had suggested booting the younger kids out of the room, but Dad wouldn't hear of it.

"We deal with tough situations as a family. The kids can stay as long as they're quiet," Dad had said. "There are no secrets here. Not anymore—and not ever again. It's just not how we do things. Problems don't go away if you hide from them, Heero."

Heero had shot a glance at Mom, but she had been wearing her best Mom expression, the one that never took no for an answer, and he'd backed down a little.

He stood, although there was a chair for him, too; like Dak, he seemed to be full of nervous energy. But Dak couldn't stand anymore. His knees wobbled, and being under Heero's scrutiny was a little like being an egg in a microwave oven. Too much more and Dak thought he might explode from the pressure. He seemed to realize it, though, and he exhaled slowly, turning off the intensity with some internal switch.

"Tell me everything," he said, staring down at Chris and Dak.

Chris was silent and stone-faced. He was scared, Dak knew, and it took everything he had to hide it. Dak had no qualms about being afraid. Fear was part of life. Without fear, there was no peace. It was a delicate balance, but one that Dak thought he understood. He met Heero's cold stare with his own, and started telling the story.

"They might have been watching the house," Dak said, deciding to start at the beginning. "Nobody bothered us on the way over to Lexi's daycare center, though. If Fay noticed anything suspicious, she didn't say anything. But she seemed like she had a lot on her mind."

Chris nodded. "She was quiet," he agreed.

That was Chris in a nutshell. He drew most of his courage from others—if baby brother Dak could manage something, so could he.

"I told her about the hotel bombing," Mom confessed, interrupting. "She said you'd started to tell her and didn't have a chance to finish. I didn't think it would hurt anything."

Dak didn't know what she was talking about, but it didn't matter. Heero nodded dismissively.

"It's fine," he said."Right now, we need to concentrate on what happened to her."

"A white van came up behind us as we were leaving the daycare," Dak continued. "And a black car pulled up on the sidewalk in front of us. We were trapped between them. Four guys with guns got out of the van. They were wearing all black, except for these crazy white armbands."

"White armbands?" Heero asked. His eyes were colder than ever. Dad looked concerned, too, but Dak didn't understand the significance.

"They were white with red on the ends," Chris corrected. "Another guy got out of the car. He was wearing a suit—black, with a red tie. No armband. The drivers stayed in the vehicles, but we couldn't see them. Tinted windows."

"The man in the suit knew Faith," Dak said. "He told her that she'd been on the run too long, and he needed her to send a message to you. She asked for the message. He ordered his guys to shoot Lexi, and she stepped in front of their guns. He never got around to the message—I guess he didn't need to after that."

Lexi, hearing her name, started crying again. She squirmed out of Dad's hold and ran to Mom, stomping on Dak's toes on her way across the room. Mom hugged Lexi tightly, grimacing over the top of her head as the motion pulled on her still-healing skin. "Go on, boys," she said.

Chris clenched his jaw. He still wouldn't talk, not on his own. Dak sucked in a ragged breath. This was the hard part.

"She said—she said that she'd go with them, willingly, as long as they left us alone and never came back. And he agreed. The men with guns got back into their van and drove off. And then he opened the car door and she got in."

"She was so calm about it," Chris added. "Like she expected it. I think that was why they let us go, because she didn't try to fight."

The room fell silent then. Heero and Dad were deep in thought. Mark and Luke seemed to be having a silent argument in the corner. Dak ignored them. They did that all the time. He was glad he wasn't a twin—those two were way too codependent. Chris stared at the hole in his sock, fighting tears.

"They let her say goodbye first," Lexi said, surprising everyone. She had a high, clear voice, like a little bell, and she didn't mind being the center of attention. "I want down, Mommy."

Mom helped Lexi out of her lap, and she padded over to Heero in her stocking feet. She was graceful for a little kid—Lexi loved her ballet lessons so much that she danced at home, too. It was getting to be the norm for her to walk toes-first.

"Fay said you're a hero," Lexi said. "Are you really?"

Heero's whole demeanor changed when he addressed Lexi. He seemed softer, even if his posture was still rigid. He almost smiled.

"Something like that," he said at last, gently. Dak got the impression that he didn't want to scare Lexi away.

She reached up toward him. "I want a hug."

Heero shot a glance at Dad, who shrugged. Lexi was a little kid. She hugged everybody. Heero knelt, and she threw her arms around his neck. She stage-whispered something in his ear and tugged on the collar of his shirt—just as Faith had hugged her, Dak realized. Heero's eyes widened and his shoulders went tense. _What happened?_ Dak wondered.

Lexi let him go, grinning, and Heero stood up. He untucked his shirt and shook it out. A piece of paper fell to the carpet, and Dad snagged it and unfolded it.

"'Proof it's not a dream,'" he read. "Hunh? This isn't her handwriting. Is it from the kidnappers?"

"No," Heero said. The line was from Lexi's favorite song, but that didn't matter. Faith hadn't had time to write anything anyway. But she had been playing with a piece of paper. Dak frowned.

"She had something in her hand while she was talking to those guys," he said. "I guess it must have been that paper. I didn't notice her slip it to Lexi." Chris shook his head; apparently he hadn't seen it either.

"Fay said to give it to a hero," Lexi said, beaming proudly. "Just like she gave it to me."

"Good girl," Mom said, pulling Lexi into a hug and nuzzling her hair. "I know Fay's going to be proud of you."

Heero examined the paper carefully. The note itself didn't seem to interest him. He folded it back the way it had been and ran his thumb across the surface.

"Do you have a pencil?" he asked. Dad found one in a desk drawer and handed it over. Heero rubbed it gently across the paper and looked at it again, frowning. "It doesn't mean anything to me. Duo?"

Dad took it and shook his head. "Damn," he mumbled. Dak reached for the paper, curious, and Dad passed it to him.

Faith had scratched letters into the paper; the pencil rubbing brought them out almost perfectly-_SP Doc- 14. _

"They're at the spaceport," Dak realized. It fell into place. The man in the suit with the dark, catlike smile had looked familiar. "Holy crap. I know that guy! Faith and I see him all the time when we go down to the docks to work on the Sunfish. He's been working at dock fourteen, just like she wrote, unloading all these barrels of fertilizer and stuff for a new agricultural facility. I didn't recognize him before—he's changed his hair, and he shaved off his goatee."

"It's lucky Faith has such a good memory, isn't it?" Mom mused. "Can Trowa have them shut the spaceport down, or is that outside Preventer jurisdiction?"

"He can, but closing the spaceport will make them suspicious. It's possible they'll panic and kill her outright if they think we're after them," Heero said. "We know which dock they're leaving from, so we can track their route if they get off the colony with her. I'd rather try and catch them without involving the authorities for now."

Dak frowned. Trowa was a Preventer, but only part time. They called him when they needed his expertise, and the rest of the time he traveled with the circus. His Preventer work was supposed to be a secret. Dak wondered what Trowa would say if he knew Heero wanted to do things outside the law.

"But why would you just let them go?" Mom asked. "These guys need to be locked up, Heero."

"These guys are just low-level front men," Heero replied. "I've been down this road before, and the proper channels just don't work. If they don't kill themselves, they'll be assassinated before they can give up their leaders. That's not happening again. I'm not playing the good cop anymore."

"You'll still need backup in that spaceport. It's huge," Mom said. "I'm calling Trowa. He can meet you there."

Heero nodded. Apparently even he was powerless against Mom's mom-ing. Somehow, Dak wasn't surprised—Mom had gotten a lot of practice in mothering with six kids underfoot. Heero turned to leave, his eyes blazing and determined. His steps were sure and final.

"You aren't coming back, are you?" Dak asked.

"No," he replied.

"What about Faith?" Chris started it, but the question was on everybody's lips. Dad stood up; his expression dead serious.

"Out," he said. "I asked you guys to be quiet, remember?"

It was just an excuse to get rid of them, Dak realized, but he got up anyway. The twins left together after a silently deciding who got to walk in front. After another look from Dad, Dak and Chris left with Lexi. Dad shut the door behind them.

"Well that was bullshit," Chris muttered. "He shows up out of nowhere and now he's suddenly in charge of Faith? What the hell? So what if he's her dad-he's been gone all this time."

Dak didn't say anything. He'd sort of wondered if this was where things were going. It didn't really matter to Dak, though, as long as Faith was happy. He wondered if there was anything she might want from home, though. There wasn't time to pack anything for her, and that was really Mom's area anyway, but at least Faith had her school stuff with her. He'd bet that she didn't have her medicine, though, and she was going to need it.

"Stay with Chris, Lexi," he said, dashing upstairs to get Faith's pills.

* * *

><p>The kids were quiet in the living room, so quiet that the only sound was the ticking clock on Duo's desk. It got on Heero's nerves, reminding him that valuable seconds were flying past while they wasted time on things that could wait until Faith was safe.<p>

"What are you going to do with Faith, Heero?" Duo asked. His voice lacked his usual cheerful inflection; it was dangerously calm. But Heero wasn't intimidated.

"I'm going to let Faith decide," he replied. "But you know she'll attract more trouble if she stays here. Are you willing to risk your family for her? If you're not, tell me now."

Duo looked away. It was a burden he didn't need right now, Heero thought—the threat of terrorists after Faith along with his wife's illness and the responsibility that came with having five children. Six if you counted Faith. Hilde seemed tense, too. They wouldn't turn him down, but they both knew that Faith's presence in their house was a ticking bomb. Literally.

"It's her decision," Duo said at last. "She knows the truth now. She isn't defenseless, Heero. And Trowa can help us if we need it. We'll do okay."

Hilde nodded. "This is a risk we accepted when we agreed to take her in. We'll see this through to the end, Heero."

Duo nudged her gently. "Don't say it like that, babe. You make it sound like we're expecting them to just walk in and take over. I may not be the God of Death anymore, but I'm still not going to let that happen."

"Oh, Duo," Hilde laughed. "You know what I meant. Now go on, give Heero a ride out to the spaceport so he can catch those guys and save Faith. I'll call Trowa and have him meet you there."

Heero rolled his eyes. There really wasn't time for this. Duo and Hilde had always been playful, though; he wondered how they still managed it when so much was going wrong for them. _Maybe it's just how they keep each other sane_, he thought. Maybe, if he'd tried it with Relena, she'd still be taking his phone calls. Somehow, the thought didn't cheer him. He pushed it aside and walked out.

Dak was waiting for him in the atrium.

"Here." He held out a bottle of pills. "Faith is going to need this."

Heero took it, frowning. Carbatrol. "What is it?"

"Her medication. She has epilepsy," Dak replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "Faith can give you all the details."

"She has seizures?" he asked dumbly. It wasn't what he'd expected.

"Only when she's asleep." Dak shrugged again. "She says it's the price she pays for being a genius with a hundred sixty-five IQ and hyperthymesia. Seriously. Give her a date and she can tell you exactly where she was and what she was doing. The day of the week, what the weather was like, what she was wearing. Whatever you want. It's beyond weird."

It was too much to take in at once. He'd just ask Faith later, as Dak had suggested. Heero put the bottle in his pocket alongside the electric calendar Faith had left in his shoe. There was no time to ask questions anyway. Duo was waiting, silently for once.

"Thanks," he said.

"Just take care of Fay," Dak replied. "She's going to need those soon."

"Hn." He turned to Duo. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Okay. You can take the blindfold off."<p>

Faith did as she was told, somewhat gratefully. The car was stopped, engine running, and she, her kidnapper and the driver were the only people in the vehicle. The dashboard clock read 11:30; if it was accurate, she'd been with them over an hour.

They had taken a roundabout route around the colony and even switched cars twice. Faith had been blindfolded the entire time, though, and she had no idea why they were so worried about being followed. A direct route seemed like a better idea—but what did she know?

"We're at the spaceport," she said, somewhat dumbly. Her skin tingled. She felt breathless and dizzy. It was possible that she was just carsick from being blindfolded in a moving vehicle, but she worried that it was an aura brought on by stress. _I guess I'll find out_, she thought. _At least I only have seizures when I'm sleeping; it would be a nightmare if I collapsed here and woke up out in space._

"That's right," her captor said. "We're meeting some friends here, and we're going to take you someplace—special."

"Special," Faith muttered. "Right. Last time someone offered to take me somewhere special, they were talking about the Christmas formal at school. And it sucked."

He laughed. "I'm surprised you went. You don't seem the type."

Faith sucked in a deep breath and felt the pressure ease from her chest. Carsickness, she decided. Not an aura.

"I guess you'd know," she replied. "You've been watching me long enough. Care to tell me why I'm so interesting? I'm sure it's not my sparkling personality."

"That isn't my place. But you'll learn soon enough. Come on. And if you try anything—"

"Yeah." Faith said. "I know. You guys will firebomb my house."

"That's right."

Faith climbed out of the car and slung her schoolbag over her shoulder. He had searched it earlier, taken her ID card and cell phone, and returned it. Her tablet and Duo's parenting book were still inside. Faith wondered why he hadn't taken the tablet; maybe he just didn't know what it was. It did look like a handheld video game. They were at the spaceport, though. It made sense for her to have some sort of luggage and a way to entertain herself.

He pushed her through the security line, handing the guards their IDs and flashing a license for a private shuttle. The guards hustled them through the line—they only did minimal checks on private flights—and out into the spaceport's main mall.

The spaceport wasn't as crowded as usual, possibly due to the bombing at the restaurant earlier. People tended to stay indoors during emergency situations, and it was easy to reschedule vacation plans. Faith easily picked out her captor's companions; they were hard-faced men dressed as he was, in black suits and red ties. They smiled as she approached; it wasn't a friendly look.

"You got her," one of them said. He sounded surprised.

"Are we ready to launch?" her kidnapper asked.

"Preparations are almost complete," the second goon replied. "They're refueling the shuttle and completing the final flight checks now. We can board in fifteen minutes."

"And our insurance?"

"Payload's on a remote detonator," the first one said. "We can set it off as soon as we're clear. It won't cause significant damage to the colony, but no one will be able to follow us."

_They're going to set off another bomb_, Faith realized. _They'll close the spaceport if even a small one goes off in here._

If that was the case, it could be days before anyone was able to leave the colony to try and rescue her.

Faith looked around the open area of the spaceport, pretending she hadn't overheard the men discussing their plans. There was a crowd surrounding the bar where businessmen liked to wait before their flights. A bunch of people were talking and loudly asking questions at once, likely reporters interviewing a celebrity or politician. She watched them, wondering who had the misfortune of being such a media darling.

_Poor bastard_, she thought. Whenever anybody wanted to interview the band, she made Chris do it. Starting a band had been his idea. He picked the songs, he booked the gigs, and he could give all the sound bites he wanted.

She glanced around the spaceport mall; standing still was boring, and the suits weren't watching her too closely. There was a familiar face browsing the tabloids at the newsstand. Or, rather, half a familiar face. _Trowa!_

He caught her looking and nodded slightly. He glanced toward the media throng and Faith realized who must be at its center. _It's gotta be Dad_. _They got my note. Looks like it's time for me to make my move._

"Hey. Can I go to the bathroom before we leave?" she asked, interrupting one of the kidnappers. "I hate using those little shuttle toilets."

"Sure. Knock yourself out, kid," her captor replied. Faith had been prepared to pitch a major tantrum, but the idea didn't seem to bother him; either he'd already figured out what she was planning, or he thought she was intimidated enough to be obedient.

She was scared, but not so scared that she wouldn't try to lose these men. Duo, Trowa and her dad were stronger and smarter than these guys. Together, they would find a way to protect her family, even if it meant moving to Mars.

Faith led the way to the ladies' room—there were two on this level of the spaceport, a small one that offered privacy to women with young children, and a large, public one. Faith went for the large one. She worried that her kidnapper might follow her into the small one, and she really didn't want him standing over her while she tried to pee. Additionally, if her kidnappers' security measures were as lax as they seemed, it might be possible to escape unnoticed from the larger bathroom.

* * *

><p>Heero was used to the media by now—he'd have to be after being married to Relena for sixteen years—but he still didn't like it. He used the impromptu press conference as a shield, though, since Faith's kidnappers would definitely recognize him now, and waited for Trowa's signal.<p>

Waiting was hell, though. Something should have happened by now. Heero itched for action, and he was getting frustrated with the whole situation. Another reporter asked a question. He offered up a typical lame response.

"I really don't have anything to say," he said. He tossed out a different version of the same sentence every time someone threw out a question or asked him to comment on something. It wouldn't discourage the vultures enough for them to leave, but it wasn't anything worth putting in print, either. He made it a point to give terrible sound bites, too.

"What do you have to say to the rumors that your wife is seeing junior ESUN representative Eric Fielding?" one reporter asked. She was young, probably fresh out of school, and her eyes were wide behind wire-rimmed glasses. Her editors were just sending her out for experience; if they expected anything interesting out of him, they would have sent someone older.

"Is that the guy's name? I thought your inside sources were sure she was out with Quatre Winner last week," he mused, dropping a few annoying hints to keep them interested. Quatre wouldn't mind; he'd laugh if anyone asked him for a comment on that one. "I don't have any information for you."

That, at least, was the truth. He hadn't been able to contact Relena in weeks. She'd stopped answering her phone when he called, and he'd given up on leaving voicemail. She never returned his messages, and it felt weird exchanging I love yous with an answering machine.

"That's pretty cold," the woman said. "Your wife is having an affair and you don't have anything to say?"

Heero glowered at her. She paled. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he said. He was giving too much away, but he couldn't stop himself. Even if Relena was having an affair—which he doubted—that was her business and the rest of the world didn't need to be privy to it. "I suggest you stick to political reporting, and stop dragging my wife's name through the mud. She's done a lot of good, and she doesn't deserve this kind of treatment from you people. "

That brought on another flood of questions. Doubtless someone had recorded his comment, and Relena's publicist would see it on the evening news. She wouldn't be happy.

Trowa pushed his way through the crowd then, flashing his Preventer badge. It was time. Heero downed his drink and dug out his own badge.

"From this point on, you're interfering with a federal investigation," he said. "If any one of you wastes another minute of my time, you'll be spending the night in jail. Understood?"

A few reporters on the fringe of the crowd began walking away. The rest of them weren't put off so easily—they might not directly interfere, but they'd stick around and try to get a story anyway. Some people would do anything for a byline.

"What's the situation?" Heero asked Trowa. They walked away from the throng, around the corner. With luck, the men standing across the mall wouldn't spot them in the disbursing crowd.

"Faith is here," Trowa said. "She arrived with another guy in black and red—probably the man who abducted her. She spotted me right off and talked her kidnappers into letting her use the restroom. She hasn't come out yet."

They had an excellent vantage point. One of Faith's kidnappers waited outside the ladies' room door. The other two were close by. They were beginning to look impatient.

"These guys might be experts in designing explosives, but they're amateur kidnappers. It was foolish of them not to bring a female accomplice," Trowa observed.

Silently, Heero agreed. There were enough women walking in and out of the restroom that a man couldn't get in unnoticed. And even if he could, spaceport security would pick it up on surveillance and send an officer to remove him.

The man outside the restroom door was getting nervous, checking women as they walked past him in and out the door. A number of women were beginning to look suspicious. If he didn't watch it, security would pick up on it in a minute or two and send someone to talk with him.

Trowa's phone rang, startling both of them. "This is Barton," he answered over his headset. It was a brief message. "All right. I'll take care of it. Thanks."

He turned to Heero. "That was Dak. Faith just contacted him; she's safe, for now, but she says there's a bomb hidden somewhere in the building. The kidnappers were planning to escape with her on a private shuttle and then remotely detonate the device so no one could follow them."

"Did he say where Faith is?" Heero asked. Trowa nodded. "Let's get her out of here. I have a plan."


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: A day or so after I posted the original version of Chapter 8, I updated it with a revised version. If you haven't read the revised version of Chapter 8, you might want to do that before you move on to Chapter 9.**

* * *

><p>Heero let Trowa lead the way through the spaceport terminals to the private shuttle docks. He knew how to get there—he had a shuttle waiting in his own dock, in fact—but it was easier than fighting the growing crowd. Trowa was wearing his Preventer uniform, and no one wanted to get in his way. The penalties for interfering with a federal investigation were harsh.<p>

Since the bombing that morning, people who didn't need to stay on the colony were trying to get home. A lot of them were older people, those who remembered the days when travel between the colonies was restricted and it was nearly impossible to go anywhere. They didn't entirely trust the new government, and terrorist attacks made them fear a return to the old system. Heero knew better—he knew Relena would never allow that to happen—but he didn't care to make the announcement. There was no time, and he didn't want to draw more attention to himself than he already had. More people recognized him since he'd cleaned up, and he didn't appreciate the staring.

Heero wanted to hurry, but he stuck with Trowa because nobody seemed to remember that he was a Preventer unless he was in uniform—and then they often didn't recognize him. No, people looked at Heero and saw Relena Dorlian's husband. She hadn't even changed her name when they married. No wonder the tabloids had been predicting their imminent divorce since the moment they'd first said "I do." It was a smart career move on Relena's part, at least back when they'd been teenagers with a baby on the way, but it didn't do anything to convince the public that they had a loving relationship. It stung a little if he thought about it. He didn't want to think about it.

"How well do you know Duo's family?" he asked Trowa, mentally switching gears.

Trowa seemed surprised by the question—Heero wondered if it was too personal—but he shrugged and answered anyway.

"Pretty well, I guess. The circus tours here once every summer, and Duo sometimes calls me if he needs help with a project. I was surprised Duo didn't call you for help until I realized how much Faith takes after you."

"Duo didn't tell you?" Heero asked. Trowa shook his head.

"Faith tried to, once, but she was very young and I didn't understand what she was getting at. And then a few years later we were working on something for an act, and I suddenly recognized that intense focus in her eyes. After that, it didn't take long to put two and two together."

Heero decided he should have expected that. If Quatre or Wufei had been around, they probably would have made the same connection. It was getting to be pretty obvious that his enemies had done it, too.

"She's a good kid," Trowa said, apparently trying to reassure him. "Things haven't exactly been easy on her, though—or on any of them. Duo and Hilde have a strong relationship now, but it wasn't always like that. It was a long time before they got things figured out."

A security guard stopped briefly and asked if he could do anything to assist them. Trowa shook his head and they kept walking. They were almost through the last of the public terminals, and the crowd was beginning to thin.

"Faith took things pretty hard," Trowa continued. "She blamed herself for a lot of their problems, but I hear that's pretty common in adopted children. Now that her situation is changing, and you're back in her life, she's probably going to blame herself for whatever is going on between you and Relena."

"Great," Heero muttered. He wondered which was worse—Faith blaming herself or Faith blaming him. Everyone else seemed to think their problems were all on his end. It wouldn't be long before she picked up on it, too, and had a new reason to hate him.

If Trowa noticed his frustration, he didn't show it.

"She'll be fine," he said. "If I've learned anything from all of this, it's that kids are resilient. Duo and Hilde were on the skids for years. They fought all the time, and Faith even told me once that the reason they didn't just divorce was because neither of them could manage the kids on their own. It took a lot of counseling before they worked everything out. And once they did, Hilde started getting sick. Through it all, the kids have come out okay."

Heero wasn't so sure about that. They all seemed so mature for their ages, and so responsible. Faith, he recalled, took care of household chores without being asked. She'd trusted Lexi, who was only four, to deliver an important message. He didn't know what was more astounding—that Faith had slipped Lexi the note or that Lexi had managed to hold on to it and give it to him. And when Faith was in trouble, she didn't contact Duo or another adult—she called Dak. Heero wasn't sure he wanted to start on the other kids. Chris was stony and cold. The twins barely spoke unless they were directly addressed. Dak spent his free time in the garage, hacking. None of them seemed to trust adults. Dak hadn't even trusted Duo or Hilde to remember Faith's medication—he had retrieved it himself, unasked.

They were young, but they weren't kids, he realized. They'd never had the chance. Maybe Trowa hadn't picked up on it, but Trowa wasn't a parent.

A commotion back in the direction of the public area of the spaceport broke Heero's concentration. He looked over his shoulder to see security escorting a man in a black suit toward the private docks.

"This is absolutely unnecessary!" he protested. "Where are you taking me?"

"Sir," the security guard said. "You're going to have to wait with your shuttle until it's ready to launch. We've had a number of complaints from female guests about the scene you caused in the ladies' room."

"I was looking for someone," he insisted. "I didn't do anything wrong."

The security guard raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so it was perfectly acceptable for you to walk into a women's restroom and start forcing the stall doors open? You're lucky you didn't get Maced. Now, you can come with me peacefully or I can call the police and let you take it up with them. It's your choice."

"But what about—"

The guard shook her head. "Your luggage has been loaded and your party can meet you at your dock. If they need any assistance, we can escort them to you."

Trowa slowed his pace and they watched as the guard left Faith's abductor at the entrance to dock fourteen. He went inside, but he didn't seem happy. His two accomplices were nowhere to be seen; Heero guessed they were out searching for Faith.

"Let me know if he causes any more trouble," Trowa murmured to the guard as they passed. She grinned.

"I've got him," she said cheerfully. "I would have just called the police, but they're all tied up investigating that bombing. They don't have time for perverts today."

They could have arrested him then. Really, they could have arrested him when he'd walked into the spaceport with Faith. But kidnappers and sex offenders fell outside Preventer jurisdiction —the Preventers had been created to put out fires, such as acts of terrorism, that could lead to war. They didn't police the general populace. If they had arrested the man on the evidence they had legally obtained, they would have been forced to turn him over to local authorities. He'd call his lawyer and the lawyer would leave him with the means to commit suicide once he was processed into a cell. It had happened before. Heero wasn't going to let it happen again.

In a few minutes, they would have sufficient evidence to pin a bomb threat on him and his accomplices. Then the Preventers could take over the investigation—and any visitors, including attorneys or other legal counsel, would be checked out thoroughly before being allowed in to see the suspects. They couldn't violate a suspect's right to due process, but they could set restrictions to keep the suspect alive until they were able to gather sufficient evidence to lock him up.

It was easier before, when his gun was the only tool Heero needed for problems like this. But Heero had enough blood on his hands for one lifetime, and a legal victory, even with all the frustration that came with it, was far more satisfying.

Trowa stopped outside of dock seventeen, just a few doors down from where the security guard had left their suspect. He punched a security override code into the keypad and let the door creak slowly open.

"Faith?" he called quietly. "We're here."

* * *

><p>Faith let the wrench slip through her fingers to clang onto the floor. Duo would've lectured her for abusing his tools, but she was past caring. She threw herself at Trowa and buried her face in his jacket. He was wearing his Preventer uniform, and the heavy jacket was perfect for snuggling into.<p>

"Today sucks," she said, her voice muffled by the thick fabric. Trowa chuckled softly and ran a soothing hand over her hair. He didn't hug her back—he knew being held made her feel claustrophobic—but just clinging to him was comforting.

"You're okay," he said, in that quiet way that calmed even half-tamed lions. Faith couldn't bring herself to disbelieve it, even after everything she'd been through. Trowa wouldn't lie to her.

"Yeah," she agreed after a moment. She was still breathing, after all. To her knowledge, no one else had died either. "I'm glad you found me."

"Dak told us where to go," Trowa murmured. "He forgot to give us the passcode for the door, but I had security's override. Why didn't _you_ call me?"

"They took my phone," she replied, still talking into his shoulder. "I didn't have your contact in my tablet, so I sent Dak an IM and had him call instead."

She pulled back for air and saw her dad standing behind Trowa, looking at her strangely. He turned away to close the door and set a small duffel bag against the wall; Faith guessed he must be uncomfortable watching her cling to someone else. A little reluctantly, she let go of Trowa and backed off. She'd tortured her dad enough for one day. She put Duo's wrench back into the toolbox and sat down on the workbench.

It had been a lousy day. A _fucking_ lousy day, in fact. She'd awoken insanely early, probably because she'd had another seizure in her sleep. She'd nearly been blown up. She'd fought with her dad when it was becoming patently clear that he only wanted to make amends. She'd learned that the only way to keep her family safe was to leave them. And then she'd been kidnapped.

It didn't seem like things could get much worse. Oh, except there was a bomb hidden somewhere in the spaceport and a terrorist in a black suit was just waiting to get his hands on her again so he could escape with her and set it off. Faith didn't want to think about how many people would die if that happened.

"Is Duo building a shuttle?" her dad asked. The unexpected question drew Faith out of her distressing train of thought.

There were two shuttles wedged into Duo's dock. One had been dry-docked—drained of its fuel and coolants and stripped for routine maintenance. The other was obviously a custom job, although it was incomplete; it had yet to be shielded for atmospheric entry and it was missing a few other key parts.

"Duo's shuttle is the one that's dry-docked for repairs," Faith said. It felt good to waste a few minutes talking about something banal instead of stressing over kidnappers and bombs. "Dak and I built the other one for a contest. It isn't finished, but we only had to submit the blueprints and a partial prototype in order to win. The rest of the parts are on order, though. We'll get it finished one of these days."

The small talk wasn't helping, so Faith dropped it. Both men wore hard, empty expressions. Faith recognized the look from Duo—they were upset about something and trying to hide it. She sighed and rested her chin in her cupped hands.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked.

"That's up to you," her dad replied. He sat next to her, but he wouldn't quite look at her. Leaving things up to her made him nervous, she realized. He was used to being in control. "You're old enough to decide where you want to live. It isn't fair for me to make that choice for you—I get that."

Faith nodded. She regretted her earlier outburst even more than ever. Her dad wasn't a bad guy, not really. She shouldn't have yelled at him. Or thrown her shoe.

"We can smuggle you out of here and take you back to Duo's," he continued. "If we reveal your identity, Preventer can provide some security—because of Relena's career and reputation. We'd have to put the house and your school under surveillance, and you wouldn't be able to go anywhere on your own anymore, but I think you'd at least be able to stay here. Our resources and manpower are limited on this colony, so we wouldn't be able to do much investigation in addition to protecting you. We might catch some of these guys, but not all of them. Your life—and everyone else's—would be at risk, but it could be done."

It was a compromise, of sorts, but Faith didn't like it. She wasn't going to put her family or her friends in danger. And constant surveillance would get old. Duo was strict sometimes, but she still was used to a certain amount of freedom. Her dad saw the look of discontent on her face and offered another option.

"Your other choice is to leave the colony with me. Instead of wasting resources on surveillance, we can track down the people who are after you. I can use the Preventer databases on Earth and send the information to our officers here."

"I'll help with that," Trowa offered. "If we can find the bomb they've hidden here, we'll have enough evidence to catch at least the ones who are on this colony. It may not be a permanent solution, but it will make things safe for you for a while. I could probably have it done, and our suspects extradited to the Earth, by the end of next week."

"Why don't you just call in a bomb threat?" Faith asked.

Trowa and her dad exchanged a look.

"We could do that," her dad said. "But it will shut the spaceport down until a crew can be put together to find and remove the bomb. With this colony in a panic from the explosion this morning, that will probably take a while. If we leave it for now, you and I can escape on my shuttle. Once we're gone, Trowa will call in the bomb threat and close the spaceport so no one can follow us."

_That's actually a pretty good plan_, Faith thought. _But even the best plans sometimes don't work._

"What if you can't catch them?" she asked. "Or if they send somebody else? The guys that are here are just subordinates."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," her dad said. "For now, I think these are our two best options."

They both seemed to want her to choose the second option. And it was tantalizing. Next week was half-term, and there was no school. If Trowa was able to clear out the colony, as he predicted, she'd be able to finish out the semester and graduate on time.

"I don't see how that's much of a choice," she said. "Months of house arrest or a week out of this tin can colony and the chance to put these Red Fang guys away for good. Hmm. I think I'll have to go with door number two, Dad."

Her dad nodded, but his expression was cautious. "Red Fang?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah," Faith replied. "That's what they call themselves. They seem to have it out for you, Dad."

"Did they say why?" he asked. Faith shook her head.

"They didn't tell me much," she said. "The one who took me spent almost the whole car trip on his cell phone, though. He didn't say much of anything useful—he seemed to be getting orders from a superior. He told the person on the other end that Zero-One's brat was theirs and the Red Fang's perseverance had finally paid off."

"It's something," Trowa said. "At least now you're certain that they're targeting Faith because of something you did, Heero. You can probably eliminate a lot of Relena's enemies from your suspect list."

"Yeah." It was a tired-sounding agreement. "But right now we need to get Faith out of here. The rest can wait."

"You said you had a plan," Trowa prompted.

Faith tried to sit quietly and be patient. She didn't particularly like waiting around to be rescued, like some poor damsel out of Lexi's fairytale book, but she wasn't sure she had a choice. Terrorists and kidnappers were a little out of her league. Faith watched her dad wander across the dock and collect his briefcase. He didn't seem comfortable just sitting still either.

"I need you to distract them while we escape," he said to Trowa. "Dak said they've been importing a lot of fertilizer and things. Tell them you're investigating this morning's bombing and ask for permits for all that hydroponic equipment. We know the other suspect, Novak, had all the paperwork, and it was all in his name. There hasn't been time to get it changed over to someone else's—anything they have in there is probably forged. Une gave you permission for searches relating to the incident this morning, didn't she?"

"Right," Trowa said. "As long as my search is related to the bombing, I don't need to bother the locals for a warrant. I can go anywhere I want and ask any questions I want. I have the necessary documents. Anything else?"

"See if you can get inside their dock if you can, or get them all inside. I don't want them seeing Faith and panicking or trying to grab her again."

Trowa nodded and stepped out into the hall. He never had been one for goodbyes.

Faith scrambled to her feet as her dad set his duffel bag down on the workbench and popped it open. There was little of interest inside; just his laptop and part of his own Preventer uniform. A furry pink bunny ear stuck out from a side pocket, bringing a small smile to Faith's lips. He handed the Preventer jacket and a black ball cap to Faith.

"Put these on," he said. "Try to cover up your hair if you can."

"Ugh," she grumbled. "I hate wearing hats. And these things are _huge_, Dad! I'm gonna look like such a dork."

"Complaining isn't going to make it any better," he replied. "The sooner we get where we're going, the sooner you can take it off."

He pulled his Glock out of his shoulder holster and held it out to her. "I know you know how to use this," he said. "Put it in your pocket. I don't want to see it unless someone is threatening your life. Got it?"

"I don't want it." Faith pushed the gun away. "Violence only leads to more violence, Dad."

He shot her a dark look. "Self-defense doesn't fall into that category, Faith. We aren't arguing about this here."

Faith answered his glower with one of her own and he finally holstered the gun again. She put his Preventer jacket on and pushed the sleeves back until her hands were free. It was too big, and it smelled a bit like aftershave, but she had to admit that it wasn't a bad disguise. With the baseball cap obscuring her face and her black slacks, she almost looked like a Preventer herself. People would see the jacket and automatically want to avoid her.

"You're just as stubborn as your mother," he said, looking away from her. He was good at hiding his feelings—he was even better than Duo—but there wasn't much he could hide from Faith. Not when his face was so much like the one she saw in the mirror every morning.

"You miss her, don't you?"

He straightened her collar and tugged the bill of the cap down until it covered her eyes.

"Every day."

It was Faith's turn to look away. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"Don't be." Gently, he tilted her chin up until she looked him in the eyes. "It isn't your fault, Faith. Okay?"

She nodded, because he seemed to need the reassurance. "Okay, Dad."

"Good." He released her and tried to fix her collar one last time. It didn't look right, not with her hair hidden under the jacket. "I'm going to check outside. Wait here; I'll let you know if it's safe."

He opened the door and looked out into the hall. It must have been clear because he didn't close the door again when he turned back to Faith.

"Chin up, shoulders back. You need to be confident," he told her. "I know you can act. I saw that school play you were in last month."

"I know. I saw you out there, and I almost missed my cue." Faith laughed. "I almost refused to go onstage at all. It was right after Hilde told me about you and Mom, and I was afraid you really had shown up to kidnap me."

"No," he said. "At that point, I was still after the guys who were following you. They went to the play, so I went, too. It wasn't as bad as it could have been."

"Oh, Dad." Faith shook her head, still amused. "It's high school. Not Broadway. We did the best we could. Are we going now, or do you want to stand around and discuss theater while poor Trowa tries to keep those Fang guys distracted?"

He checked outside again. "It's still clear. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, favorites, alerts, and messages! I really love hearing from all of you.<p>

Notes: This was another tense chapter, I know. Chapter 10 is going to be a recap, of sorts, so please let me know if you have any questions and I'll see if I can address them. Things should lighten up a bit, for a little while, after that. And yeah, I'm just making up Preventer regulations as I go. Let me know if they seem to be a little too off-the-wall.


	10. Chapter 10

_March 20, AC 211_

_Faith and Dak stood by the dock, looking at the old shuttle. Faith could tell it was destined for the scrap heap; its panels were scored from bits of space junk and the atmospheric shielding was bad. The model numbers were fading, but Faith could still make out the letters—_Jetson PK-X. _Faith had overheard the seller telling Duo that it had been drained of almost all of its fuel and, although the power core was still good, the life support system was beginning to fail. Faith knew it wasn't fit for another trip to Earth. It was barely fit for flying around space._

_But it was still cool to look at._

"_Can we go inside?" she asked Duo, who was minding them while Hilde rested. Being pregnant was apparently harder than it looked. Faith didn't think she ever wanted to try it. But it was fun to feel the baby kick, and exciting to know that in another two or three weeks there would be a little sister to play with. Faith was tired of being surrounded by boys, even Dak, and he wasn't nearly as horrible as Chris and the twins. _

"_Sure," Duo said, opening the hatch for them. "I still have to finish up some paperwork before we can leave. The shuttle's been decommissioned, so you can't accidentally blow anything up. Knock yourselves out."_

_Faith and Dak didn't need a second invitation. Chris hung back and eventually followed Duo into the office instead. He wasn't one for jaunts into space. Not like Faith. _

"_Wow! This is neat, isn't it?" Faith asked, climbing into the pilot's seat and looking over the controls. She'd gone out with Duo a few times and she itched to learn how to fly herself. Her interest seemed to amuse him; he'd promised to teach her when she turned fifteen, and he always let her sit in the cockpit and watch when he flew. _

"_Yeah," Dak agreed. He was too busy checking out the monitors and the shuttle's navigation system to pay much attention to Faith. _

"_It's just like a real shuttle, only it can't fly," Faith said joyfully. "But I know the launch sequence. Look!"_

_She flipped the switches one at a time, turning on the power core and life support, setting up the navigation controls, starting communication protocols. The shuttle hummed to life. She toggled the hatch door closed—it shut with a metallic clang—and the launch button glowed red, indicating that the startup sequence was complete._

"_Uh, Fay?" Dak asked, glancing up at her when a monitor flickered on. "What are you doing?"_

"_Just playing," Faith replied. "It won't go anywhere—Duo said so, remember?"_

"_I don't know," Dak hedged. "He said we couldn't blow anything up. Maybe that just means they took all the weapons out of it."_

"_Don't worry so much, Dak," Faith said. "It's just for fun. I'll stop if you're scared."_

"_I'm not scared," Dak argued, even though he was going a bit pale. "Do it. Push the button." _

_Faith pushed the button. The shuttle hurled itself forward, blasting through the dock's airlock doors as if they were made of tinfoil instead of reinforced steel. The sudden movement threw Faith headfirst into the control panel. When consciousness returned, the fuel indicator light was flashing empty. There was no way home._

* * *

><p>Present Day<br>Friday, March 15, AC 215

Even though Trowa's diversion had been a complete success and they had easily gotten off the colony, Faith seemed nervous. A tense silence stretched between them, and Heero wasn't sure how to ease it. If it was anybody else, he would have ignored it —he knew he bothered people—but he wanted Faith to be comfortable.

"You don't like being in space?" he finally asked on the off-chance that he wasn't responsible for setting her on edge.

She jumped and stared at him with wide eyes. He stared back until she looked away and shrugged.

"This shuttle is a Jetson PK-X model, isn't it?" she asked. He nodded. "I thought so. I had a rough trip in one of these before. It's nothing."

"Hn." It didn't seem like nothing, but he didn't want to pry. She was beginning to calm down, though, so maybe talking helped. He found her pill bottle in his pocket and sent it floating across the cabin toward her. "Catch."

Not that it was going to be difficult to catch in zero-gravity. Faith plucked the bottle out of the air as it drifted lazily by.

"My pills," she mumbled. "Holy crap. Thanks, Dad."

Dak gave that to me," he explained, brushing off her gratitude. Dak was the one who deserved thanks—from both of them. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what's going on."

Faith tucked the bottle into her schoolbag and looked at him thoughtfully. He let her take her time. It was going to be hours before they got to Earth; there was no need to rush into anything. She didn't trust him, even if she had softened toward him a bit, and he wasn't going to ruin things by pushing her into telling him private details about her life.

"I have a seizure disorder," she said quietly, staring down at the floor. "Its big, fancy scientific name is autosomal dominant nocturnal frontal lobe epilepsy. In English, it means I have seizures in my sleep."

"Only in your sleep?" he asked. "Are you sure it isn't just nightmares?"

She laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "It's hereditary. A lot of types of epilepsy are. The doctor ordered a genome map when he suspected I was having seizures, and it showed that I have the genetic mutation that causes this particular disorder. They still can't explain why I'm a total headcase, but at least this is one mystery solved."

"I don't think you're a headcase," Heero said. "You seem pretty grounded to me. Crazy people don't usually graduate from high school at fifteen."

It was the right thing to say. Her smile was shy, but genuine.

"Thanks, Dad," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to imply that I'm crazy or out of touch with reality. I'm just—different. There's something strange about the way my brain stores information. I haven't been able to forget anything since I was about two and a half."

Dak had mentioned her memory. Hyper-something. He'd seemed to think it was strange, too. But it sounded like an asset to Heero, particularly since Faith also had a good eye for details.

"It sounds kind of cool on the surface, but it has its downsides," she continued, answering his unasked question. "It's deeper than just being able to remember everything that happens around me—the intensity of most people's experiences will at least fade with time. It doesn't work that way for me. If something reminds me of the time I broke my arm, it feels just like breaking it again. And if something triggers an intense memory, it's hard to stay focused on the present."

That explained why the shuttle bothered her, then. He wondered what had happened to leave her so tense. Any number of things could go wrong during space travel, but Duo was a competent pilot and a skilled mechanic. It was hard to come up with something that might go wrong on his watch.

"Is Trowa going to be okay on his own, Dad?" Heero tried not to let the abrupt change of subject bother him. If she needed to talk about something else, they could talk about something else. And he thought he understood her concern for Trowa. Faith obviously had a soft spot for the acrobat, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

"Trowa knows what he's doing," he said. "He should be getting some backup soon, if he hasn't already. Judging from the lack of traffic in this region, I think he called in that bomb threat as soon as we left."

She nodded, but she didn't seem entirely reassured.

"This is crazy, Dad," she said. "I'm still not sure I understand everything that's happening. Why do these Fang guys want me so badly? And why didn't you ever call? Or write? Or anything?"

Heero held back a sigh. She was good at asking the hard questions. He had no answer for the first one. And the others were just—difficult.

"I don't know why the Red Fang is after you," he said slowly. "If they're related to the White Fang, they're probably using you to get to me. And as to the rest—well, that's a long story."

"We seem to have plenty of time on our hands," Faith said drily. "I know I'm not going anywhere."

He shouldn't have expected her to let it go so easily. She did deserve answers. But now that he was seeing her face to face, all of his carefully thought out reasons for leaving her behind were horribly inadequate.

"It was meant to be temporary at first," he said. "The plan was that I'd catch the people who were threatening you and that would be the end of it. But—as you've probably noticed—I was never able to track down their leaders or financial backers. I did get a few of their subordinates, but they were just that. Subordinates. Most of them were fanatics, raving about some divine mission. They didn't have ID, not even a credit card, and their fingerprints and DNA weren't in any of the databases."

That, at least, was the easy part of the story. It was all simple facts supported by evidence in his file cabinet and Preventer databanks. Preventer had extensive information on Faith Yuy, even after her disappearance and supposed death. Hundreds of people had anonymously reported tips and clues, most of which were pure speculation. Faith could read through as much of that as she wanted, and learn nothing useful.

"We didn't contact Duo because communications are too easy to trace. Someone's always watching your mom's phone lines and email. All Preventer communications are recorded and documented. Our home phones, personal cell phones, and computer lines are monitored as well. Most of it is done by the government, so we have proof to show in court if someone threatens Relena's safety. Contacting you was a risk we didn't want to take; Duo was doing us a huge favor by keeping you, and we didn't want to put his family in more danger."

That wasn't so bad either. The reasoning behind it was sound and sensible, even if Heero knew he could have found a way to get around the monitors. There were disposable mobile phones, after all, and public computer terminals—although that was risky. But it wouldn't have worked out. Not in the long run.

"I still hadn't made any serious progress on your case a year after the hotel bombing," he said, finally reaching the hardest part. "We thought you must have forgotten us—you were two when we left you, after all. Relena and I talked about it and decided that you were better off with Duo. You wouldn't be safe with us. We could have kept you under lock and key your entire life, but you wouldn't have been happy. There was no way for us to keep you completely out of the spotlight, not with your mom being who she is, and it wasn't safe for you to do the things that other kids take for granted. You wouldn't have been able to go to school, or play with other kids, or even go outside without a bodyguard. It wasn't the life we would have chosen for you, and you were too young to make a choice for yourself."

It was lame, but it was the truth. Heero felt pathetic. He had gone to extremes during the war, risking his life on mission after mission, and ultimately survived. He'd gone on to work for Preventer, guarding the woman who represented peace in the new world, dodging bullets and running down would-be assassins. But for all of that, he couldn't do anything to protect one little girl. It was a small thing in comparison to all of his other accomplishments, but it was the only thing that mattered.

Faith was silent, and she wore her vacant, smokescreen expression again. She slouched a little in her seat, and her braided hair drifted around her like a living creature. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips slightly parted. She was really good at that, probably even better than Duo—he knew she wasn't half as stupid as she looked. He wished she would say something. Or at least drop the mask and tell him how she really felt.

"What?" he asked. "No sarcastic comments this time? You're scaring me. Did you hit your head when you were kidnapped?"

It worked as he'd intended: she laughed and her eyes were bright again.

"I'm sure I can come up with something if it'll make you feel better," she replied. "But I really don't have anything to say. You did what you thought was right at the time, even if you regret it now. I'm not going to get onto you for that. I'm not heartless, Dad. I just wanted to understand."

"Then we're good?" he asked.

She took a minute to think about it.

"Not yet. You can't expect me to forgive thirteen years of—_that —_in a day," she replied. "But we're getting there."

It was a start, he decided. And it was probably a better start than he deserved.

* * *

><p>Faith was trying to behave. Really. But between her dad's story and the Jetson shuttle, she could hardly sit still. Her dad had gone quiet, and the silence was getting to her. She needed to talk, or at least listen to someone else talk, to keep her from flashing back to her last trip in a Jetson. Most of the time, her memory was an asset. But sometimes, when she was distressed or afraid, it played tricks on her.<p>

"Where are we going, anyway?" she asked.

Awkward silence followed. Apparently her dad hadn't planned quite that far ahead.

"We'll call your mom when we get to the Earth," he said decisively. "Everything will be fine."

Faith wasn't so sure about that, but she didn't argue. Whatever was going on between her parents was between her parents. She wasn't sure it would be wise for her to intervene, and she wasn't going to take sides, either.

He glanced up from the controls to look over at her. She knew she was tense. Her jaw was tight, and she couldn't quite relax her shoulders. She clung to her armrests to keep her hands from clenching into fists.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, frowning.

A nervous laugh escaped her; her dad's frown deepened into concern.

She'd tried to sit still and silently, but she couldn't help her tension. The controls on this shuttle were identical to the ones from five years ago. It was the same color. The same size. It even had almost the same smell. This one was better maintained and a little more comfortable, but it wasn't enough to reassure her.

"What's wrong?" her dad asked. "You're all twitchy. It's weird."

Faith shivered, but she wasn't cold. It was just an echo from a memory that could never grow distant. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

"Faith?"

"I'm fine, Dad. It's just—like I said, I'm kind of a headcase." The story slipped out, one word at a time, although Faith hadn't wanted to tell it. "Duo got a shuttle like this once. It was in pretty sorry shape, though, and he was going to scrap it. We were with him when he went to pick it up, and he said we could play on it while he finished up the paperwork."

"Idiot," her dad muttered. Faith hoped he was talking about Duo, but she couldn't tell. He wasn't looking at her now. They were getting close to Earth and traffic was heavy; he needed to pay attention to what he was doing.

"I figured out the launch sequence," she said, deciding that she might as well finish what she'd started. "The power core hadn't been removed, and there was just enough fuel left for a launch. We ended up drifting through space for three days with no food, no fuel, and a failing life support system. It was so cold."

It wasn't cold in her dad's shuttle, but the Jetson in her memory was cold, and the contrast made her skin tingle. She couldn't stop shaking. Worse, she couldn't stop talking.

"Hilde had a stroke when she heard. Literally. It was right before Lexi was supposed to be born, and they both almost died. Duo was livid when they found us. It was—bad," she finished, unwilling to go any farther.

Silence hung between them, tense and fragile. They were riding the wave course now; in just a few minutes, they'd be on Earth.

"What happened?" her dad asked softly. She knew from his tone that he wouldn't push her to tell. It was a car wreck kind of story—nobody could look away or feign disinterest once they heard the beginning. Faith didn't want to talk about the end. But she babbled on anyway, too far gone into her memories to stop herself. Her voice rose, in volume and in pitch, a combination of hysteria and the need to be heard over the sound of the shuttle entering the atmosphere.

"He said it was my fault, that Dak couldn't have done that by himself, and I was a danger to myself and everyone else. He started making arrangements to send me to a boarding school on a different colony—for my own protection. Hilde didn't know. She was still in the hospital. A day before I was supposed to leave, I called Trowa to say goodbye. He showed up on our doorstep that evening. I don't know what he said to Duo—they sent us all to our rooms—but he fixed everything."

The bad part was over, and she could stop talking. Faith sucked in a deep breath and felt her hands unclench. If there was such a thing as a guardian angel, Trowa was hers. She only hoped she'd find a way to pay him back someday.

Her braid hit her shoulders with a thump as the shuttle landed and screeched to a halt in one of Earth's massive space harbors. Gravity pulled her back into her seat; she welcomed it—it pulled her completely back into the present, too. Her dad threw off his restraints and went to her, concern etched in his face. She tried to crack a smile as she unbuckled her own safety harness with clumsy, uncertain fingers.

"Do I still seem pretty grounded to you?" she asked, trying for a joke. "I told you—there are downsides to having a memory like mine."

He didn't say anything, but he held out his Preventer jacket for her and helped her put it back on. The gesture was more comforting than anything else might have been; it reminded her of days when she was too small to do for herself, back when her dad was her favorite person in the world.

"I'm okay," she said, feeling more like herself with every minute that passed. "Don't even think about getting all clingy and emotional on me now. It's creepy."

"You think everything is creepy," he replied impassively. Faith thought she saw the beginning of a smile at the corner of his mouth and knew he understood what she was getting at. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Notes: Heh. This was darker than I had intended, but it seems to be my best effort. There is a point to it all, several points actually, and it'll all make sense in the end. This is the hardest chapter I've written so far, and I hope it isn't totally unappealing or upsetting. Anyway. Chapter 11 is coming along and, trust me, we're going to have some fun. I should have another one-shot for Behind the Scenes up sometime soon, too. :D<p>

Thanks so much for reading! And I definitely want to thank everyone who has reviewed, or added me to their alerts or favorites!


	11. Chapter 11

It was getting late.

Relena paced her office, unable to sit calmly behind her desk any longer. Hilde still hadn't called. The car bomb had gone off around 7 a.m. on the colony—or 5 a.m. Relena's time. She'd kept a nervous eye on her phone all day, but the only calls had been work-related. All she had were her news feeds, which got increasingly worse with every update. A bomb in the colony spaceport. Two suspects dead. A third suspect, critically wounded, in Preventer custody.

Ordinarily, she would have gone home early and waited for a call there, where she could be as anxious as she wanted. But she still had two appointments and a dinner engagement to get through, and it would seem suspicious if she canceled. She had no official ties to the colony; to her, it should be just another of those incidents that cropped up from time to time. She would speak out against it, of course, but there was little else she could do without drawing unwanted attention to the colony. She wanted Faith be safe, and that meant that she couldn't give one small colony any unwarranted special treatment.

She stood at the window and watched as rush-hour traffic crawled past on the freeway. The sun hadn't quite started setting, but the daylight was growing tired. Relena didn't know how she was going to manage dinner. She couldn't eat. Not now.

The intercom buzzed. Relena jumped. _My 4:15 must be early_, she thought. _Well, that's fine._ She pressed the button on her phone.

"Call on line two," Julia, her secretary, said. Relena's stomach clenched—it was so late. Was it bad news? "It's your husband. Should I tell him you're in a meeting?"

"No," Relena didn't particularly want to talk to her husband—she hadn't seen him in six weeks, but it was still too soon—but he probably had the news she'd been waiting for. "I'll take the call. Send it through, Julia."

Relena straightened her jacket and smoothed her hair while she waited for Julia to transfer the call. It didn't matter. Heero would know how nervous she was—he had an infuriating sixth sense about her emotional state, no matter how collected she tried to appear. The phone rang, and she took the call on her vidphone.

"Hello, Heero."

"Relena."

He looked disheveled, worse than she'd seen him in a long time. His suit was wrinkled and there was a small tear in his jacket. There were circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't been sleeping well, and it looked like he'd lost weight. He also needed a hair cut in the worst way. But his eyes were still that beautiful, deep blue, and his gaze was still sharp with the same intensity that had first attracted her to him when they were just teenagers. Even over the video screen, that look was enough to bring warmth to her cheeks.

"I've been following the incident from this morning," she said, knowing that he needed no preamble. She could tell from her call log that he was on Earth, but she knew from her publicist that he'd been on the colony earlier. The woman had had a screeching fit on the phone over Heero's impromptu press conference that afternoon. Relena had only laughed. Poor Heero. He still couldn't deal with journalists. "What's going on?"

The ghost of a smile lit his face. She frowned.

"I have something for you," he said. It sounded like he was trying for subtlety, but she wasn't in the mood. Julia was buzzing again, doubtless her 4:15 had just walked into the outer office.

"I don't have time for this," she snapped. "You know what I want to hear. Tell me! No codes. No games. I don't care who might be listeni—"

He took her at her word and dragged someone else in front of the camera. Relena gasped. Her daughter grinned.

"Fay," she whispered. "Fay! You're on Earth. You're okay? Nobody hurt you?"

Faith's grin softened into a gentle smile. She looked so much like her father…

"I'm fine, Mom," Faith said. She shot a glance up at Heero. "Let go of my hair. I'm not a puppy, and that isn't a leash."

At least Faith wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. Relena was proud of her; it took a lot to stand up to Heero. He just had that way about him.

"Then stay where I can see you," Heero muttered. "There are too many people here. It's not safe for you to just wander around. I can get my handcuffs out again."

Faith rolled her eyes. "And I can escape again," she replied. "Jeez."

"Fay. Has he hurt you?" Relena asked doubtfully. She didn't honestly think Heero would harm their daughter, but—he'd done stranger things before. _Handcuffs?_ She thought. _Really?_

"I'm _fine_," Faith repeated. "_He_'s a nut. It's okay when it's just the two of us, but he goes all overprotective and psycho when we're in public. It's getting old."

Relena bit her lip to hide a smile and knew that Heero saw and understood the gesture. She knew exactly what Faith was talking about—she'd been on the receiving end of that treatment before—and she didn't say a word. Infuriating as Heero could be, his dedicated watchfulness was exactly the kind of protection she wanted for her only child.

"I want to get her someplace safe," Heero said, none-too-gently changing the subject. "I'm assuming you want to see her."

"Of course I want to see her," Relena said, scowling. "How could you possibly think I wouldn't want to see Faith?"

Heero only shrugged. He hadn't been himself around her lately. Six weeks apart probably hadn't helped any.

"I'll be home in fifteen minutes."

He nodded and ended the call without saying goodbye. But that, at least, was typical.

Relena began packing up what she needed to take home. She'd make up an excuse to cancel her appointments, and dinner with Eric could wait until another night. So what if it looked suspicious. This was the kind of thing she paid her PR team to handle.

* * *

><p>The screen went black, and all that was left was the graffiti on the projector screen. <em>Dumbass Earth kids<em>, Faith thought. Public phone booths were gross. Public phone booths on Earth, she realized, were especially gross. The wad of dried up chewing gum stuck to the bottom of the screen turned her stomach. Her dad's cell phone wasn't working, though, and Faith's had been stolen. They really didn't have another choice.

Faith caught her dad staring at her, wearing his cold, unreadable expression. _Great_, she thought. _I wonder what I did this time_.

"What?" she asked. He fixed her with a stony glare, and she did her best to return it in full.

"How long have you been talking to Relena?" he asked. His voice was deadly calm, but Faith had a feeling that her dad was anything but cool and collected on the inside. Still. She wasn't going to let him intimidate her.

"Take it up with Mom," she replied. And then, because she was curious, she asked, "How did you know?"

He pushed her out of the phone booth without answering. She followed him—because she knew he would drag her if she didn't—but had to stop short when they reached the window.

The space harbor had been built high on a plateau overlooking the city. The sun was just starting to set, and the entire city was bathed in pink light. It was huge, spanning for miles as far as she could see, filled with skyscrapers and parks and cars rushing about on wide ribbons of freeway. Water glittered on the far side of it all. _Could that be the ocean?_ Faith wondered.

It was a lot to take in all at once.

"Just this one city is bigger than an entire colony, isn't it?" she asked. Her dad had noticed she was missing and retraced his steps to find her. He didn't seem angry, though, or even impatient. He'd apparently gotten over his pique.

"Yeah," he replied. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her slightly, pointing out a building near the horizon. "Do you see that house? The villa on the hill by the ocean, with the high walls?"

Faith nodded.

"That's where we're going." He let her go, took a step back. "Let's not keep Relena waiting any longer than we have to."

"Right," Faith agreed. She was eager to see her mom. Their phone conversations were always the same—few and far between, and all too brief. It just wasn't enough.

"Come on," her dad said. "I have to get my car keys out of storage before we can leave."

"Why did you leave your keys in storage?" Faith asked. He shrugged.

"I wasn't going to need them in space," he explained. "It just seemed easier."

* * *

><p>Storage was a row of lockers just inside the secured area of the building. Heero fumbled in his duffel bag for the little plastic key, hoping he hadn't somehow lost it. He'd never misplaced one before, but there was a first time for everything.<p>

Impatience made him rush, and anger made him clumsy, and he started to wonder if he really had left the key out in space somewhere. It would be embarrassing to have to call security over to open the locker for him.

_How could Relena do that_? He thought, his mind only halfway on what he was doing. They'd had an agreement—no contact with Faith until he'd found the terrorists. It wasn't safe, not when their communications would be so easy to trace. _It's probably how they found her after all this time._

He stopped fumbling blindly in his bag and started searching properly, reminding himself that he couldn't talk to Relena until he found the key. It was beginning to look like he'd lost it somewhere.

But it was there, down underneath everything else, as small things usually are. He stuck it in the lock and twisted it savagely.

It broke.

It was, he decided, appropriate for the kind of day he'd been having. He peered at the lock carefully, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn't fix the key, but the little latch was almost up. A credit card wouldn't quite fit in the available space—probably to help deter thieves—but he could use his penknife to jimmy the locker open.

Except his penknife wasn't in his jacket pocket. Or his pants pocket. It must have fallen out at some point. _Great_, he thought. It wasn't just that he'd lost a useful tool; the penknife had been a just-because gift from Relena. He'd had it for years, and the thought that it was probably somewhere on L2 was irritating.

"Something wrong?" Faith asked, peering over his shoulder at the broken locker. Even after their long day, she was a bundle of energy. One that got bored far too easily.

He shrugged. "We'll just go find a security guard. I'm sure they have the tools to take care of this."

He waved at the locker, disgusted. Faith had a look at it and made a face.

"What a crappy setup," she muttered. "It isn't all that secure, either. I bet people break into these all the time. I bet _Lexi_ could break into one of these." Faith took her old stuffed rabbit from its place in his bag. She lifted up the edge of its little bowtie and pulled a small screwdriver out of a hole in the back of its neck. "I'm kind of surprised you never found this."

He'd always wondered why the stuffed animal seemed to have a spine. Thinking back on it, that little screwdriver answered a lot of questions—like how his laptop had mysteriously gone to pieces when he'd left it unattended one afternoon.

"You were two," he said, incredulous. Faith was a mystery, and Heero wasn't used to being surprised. Most people were pretty predictable. He didn't know whether to laugh out loud or throw his hands up and admit defeat. He settled for silence.

"I was smart for my age," she replied flippantly. "You knew that. Or I thought you did, anyway."

She was still smart for her age. It was too bad the smartass attitude came along with it. He hoped that the attitude was just part of being a teen and she'd outgrow it before much longer.

Faith popped the lock open and Heero retrieved his car keys. He stuck what was left of the broken key inside the locker—he didn't feel like turning it in and explaining things to security. When he turned back to Faith, the screwdriver had disappeared, probably back into its old hiding place. He didn't care. It wasn't a big deal, not really. But he wondered what else she had in store for him.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing his bag. There was no point in wasting time wondering what other surprises Faith might have up her sleeves. She was as unpredictable as she'd ever been; she wouldn't be herself without that unknowable aspect.

* * *

><p>Relena chewed on her bottom lip as the phone rang. <em>Come on, pick up<em>, she thought. _Don't tell me he's already waiting at the restaurant._

Just as she was about to give up, Eric answered. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see her, at least at first. His smile fell when he saw the look on her face.

"Don't tell me you're canceling on me again," he said. Relena grimaced.

"My husband is back on Earth," she explained. "He's spent the last six weeks visiting friends in the colonies, so I'm taking off early to see him."

It wasn't quite a lie. As far as she knew, Heero really had been in space for the last six weeks. If it wasn't for Faith, he'd probably still be there. Their last argument had been devastating. Agreeing to a trial separation had been worse; it brought up too many mixed feelings and insecurities. Relena didn't know if they could resolve things or not, but they couldn't keep ignoring their problems now that Faith was back in the picture. From what she'd seen of her friends' relationships, kids always complicated things. She bit her lip again and realized she'd been quiet too long.

"I really do want to meet with you again, Eric," she said. It was the truth, although she wasn't sure it was a good idea with her personal life in a near-catastrophic state of disorder. "Can we do lunch on Monday?"

He mock-pouted. "Honestly, now, I'm going to have to assume you aren't interested if you keep standing me up like this, Ms. Relena."

Eric was joking and they both knew it. Relena flashed him an apologetic smile and got one in return. She was growing to like Eric a lot—he was handsome, funny, smart, and sophisticated. He knew how to make conversation. He was a good dancing partner and a good politician. And Relena was going to ruin everything if she kept canceling their plans to meet.

"Sorry, Eric," she said. "I'll make it up to you, really. Anything."

"Anything?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well. Maybe it's good that you're keeping me on the hook until Monday. I think I'm going to need the weekend to come up with something suitably entertaining, if you know what I mean."

He winked lasciviously and rang off, leaving Relena to wonder what he really did mean. She was married, after all. But there was no telling with some men. She picked up her purse and left; her driver was waiting downstairs.

* * *

><p>Faith had been expecting a beater, or maybe a boring family car. An old sedan or an SUV, or, at the very best, a well-kept Corolla or something of that nature. Her dad wasn't a flashy person, not on the outside, and he seemed to like it that way. He wasn't the type to seek attention.<p>

She hadn't expected the machine in front of her, although she supposed she should have. She had seen the car—it was the one her parents took out on special occasions, the one her dad had snuck her out in for drives around the block on nights when she'd been a toddler and couldn't sleep. She couldn't help smiling when she remembered the time he'd sat her on his knees and let her pretend to steer it in the driveway. Her mom had been horrified, though Faith was fairly sure that the car had been in park the whole time.

"What is it?" she asked, not quite able to contain herself; she remembered the car, but not the make or model. She didn't want to seem too impressed. Even if it was the shiniest thing she'd ever seen, it was still just a car.

It was a two-seater, and it was solid black except for the manufacturer's logo and the license plate, a custom affair that read ZERO instead of a string of random characters. There wasn't a ding or a scratch anywhere in the paint. As far as she could tell, it was pretty much perfect. Faith couldn't believe her dad still had it, and in such great shape, too.

"It's a special edition Porsche Carrera," he said. "They only made about five hundred of them. It was a wedding present from your mom. It's a little ostentatious, but she's accustomed to a privileged lifestyle. She always goes overboard when it comes to gifts."

He beeped the doors open and they put their things in the trunk. Faith only had her schoolbag, and she was hit with the realization that she was stuck on Earth without a change of clothes. _Ugh. Maybe Mom has something I can borrow_, she thought. She was too tired, and too hungry, to worry about that right now.

Her dad closed the trunk and looked at her thoughtfully. Faith was starting to dread that look. It usually meant an uncomfortable question was coming.

"Want to drive?" he asked.

It wasn't what she'd been expecting. She wondered if it was a joke. Her dad's expression hadn't changed, but—from what she'd seen of him—he wasn't a particularly expressive guy. It didn't seem to be an attempt at humor, either, but he was so stoic that it was hard to be sure.

"You're crazy." Faith stared at her dad, but there was nothing to read in his face. "It was just a theory I had before, but now I know for sure. You're insane. There's no other reasonable explanation for this."

No sane person would willingly give his car keys to a fifteen year old. At least, not when the keys were for a classic, limited edition European sports car that had to be worth about a half a million dollars. But, Faith decided, it was probably a bad idea to hurt her dad's feelings. Especially since he might really be crazy, and there was no telling what a crazy person might do when he's upset.

"I don't know how," she finally admitted, when all he did was stare at her. "Duo keeps saying he'll teach me, but there's never any time."

It wasn't like she really needed to drive anyway. Their entire colony was only thirteen miles across. She could walk almost anywhere she wanted to go.

"You have to learn sometime," her dad said. "Your mom never did, and I don't think it was a good decision on her part. We don't have to do this tonight, but you are going to learn."

That made sense. Maybe he wasn't crazy after all. Just—eccentric.

Faith didn't care for the bossiness, but her dad was only trying to do what he thought was right. She suspected there was more to it than what he was saying, too; she could see it in his eyes, just the barest hint of sadness. Given the circumstances, she decided, there was only one thing she could say.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Notes: Hooray! It's finally up. I was hoping it would come out a little more slapstick, but I think this will do. Check out my other story, Behind the Scenes, for a little more about the car. :D<p>

Thanks so much for all of the kind reviews, etc. I've been so bad about answering my messages and keeping up with everything I'm trying to read. Work has been busy lately. I'm so sorry! I'm not ignoring anybody, really!


	12. Chapter 12

Relena knew how to be patient. She was a politician; it took time for the wheels of bureaucracy to turn, and it took time to change men's minds, particularly those men who were stuck on old-world policies of violence and oppression. She understood, almost intuitively, when she should act and when she should wait. And in this case, waiting was all she could do.

Waiting sucked.

Relena didn't know how she'd let her husband talk her into this. They were stressed at the time, and his arguments had sounded reasonable back then. She had agreed to Heero's temporary solution in the end, and had even agreed to leave Faith permanently with Duo when Heero still hadn't found the terrorists after a year of searching. Now she wished she had tried a little harder, and argued a little more forcefully, to keep Faith at home.

Sure, maybe they would have had to hire more guards. So what? And okay, maybe Faith couldn't have gone to school. They could have gotten a tutor. Or even homeschooled her. As much as they moved around, Faith wouldn't have been in one place long enough to make friends anyway.

Relena sighed. She was being selfish. Faith really had been better off with Duo and his family. There, she had brothers and a sister to play with—with all the threats, it was too risky for Relena to have another child. At Duo's, Faith had her school—which she loved—and her friends and hobbies. She was happy.

And she wouldn't have been nearly as happy at home. Moving to a new city every time Relena got elected to a different position. Being constantly surrounded by guards. Never being able to live anything that resembled a normal life. It wouldn't have been good for a young child, much less a confused teenager.

Relena sighed again, and pushed her old regrets away. She'd found a way to contact her daughter, and that was something even Heero hadn't managed to do. Their phone calls, few and far between as they were, had probably saved some of Relena's sanity. And now Faith was coming home, and Relena didn't quite feel like she'd be meeting a stranger at the door. It was a small comfort, anyway.

Relena left her spot by the window and went to her room to change into an old pair of jeans and a thick sweater to ward off the slight chill in the air. They were in that awkward period between seasons; days alternated between balmy and tempestuous, but nights were just plain cold. She didn't doubt that there would be frost on the grass in the morning.

She couldn't sit around and wait. She'd go crazy. She'd sent Nina, the housekeeper, home to avoid answering uncomfortable questions about Faith just yet, but that meant she was waiting alone. She thought about calling someone, just for a bit of company, and decided against it.

Torstin sensed her anxiety and pressed against her leg, whining. Relena scratched behind his ear until his back foot thumped the floor.

"I know," she murmured to her dog. "I really need to calm down."

There was no sense in just waiting, pacing the living room and upsetting the dog. Relena was perfectly capable of doing a few things around the house so Faith would be comfortable when she arrived. Faith's old room was still full of baby furniture; they should have thrown it out or donated it years ago, but somehow it had never happened. Obviously, Faith couldn't stay there. Relena decided to give her the downstairs room that overlooked the ocean instead. It was her second favorite room in the house, except for her office, which was directly above it.

She found spare sheets in the linen closet and made up the bed. After a moment's consideration, she dug out an electric blanket instead of the comforter that matched the sheets; Faith was accustomed to the human-controlled weather on the colonies, where temperatures were usually kept at a mild setting. With the electric blanket, Relena knew she wouldn't have to worry about Faith getting too cold at night.

Relena checked the bathroom next, making sure there were clean towels, soap and shampoo, and a toothbrush and toothpaste. She didn't have a spare hair dryer, but Faith could borrow hers until they had a chance to get another one.

Torstin lumbered beside her like a second, furry shadow, quietly watching her fuss over the bed sheets and the bathroom. At last, Relena had to admit that there wasn't much more she could do. It was nearly dark out, so she reluctantly drew the curtains, blocking out the ocean view. There wasn't much to see out there at night anyway.

"Let's see what's in the kitchen," she said to Torstin. He wagged his tail—to him, "kitchen" meant "dinner"—and trotted down the hall ahead of her.

Relena wasn't much of a cook. She'd never really had the time to learn more than a few basics. Nina did the shopping and most of the cooking, and Relena had been more than happy to leave it that way. She put out a bowl of kibble for Torstin, and poked around in the freezer while he ate. The only possibility was a pre-assembled lasagna that had to bake for an hour. Faith was allergic to dairy, though, and Relena thought she remembered Hilde mentioning that she didn't eat meat, either. And since the lasagna was loaded with both cheese and Italian sausage, it wouldn't do.

Relena checked her watch—_It's been thirty minutes since I got home! I can't believe they aren't here yet—_and decided to just have something delivered. She called the security guards at the gatehouse; they'd have to place the order for her.

Carol and Stephanie were on duty tonight. Stephanie picked up on the first ring.

"Ma'am. Is something wrong?" she asked. Relena smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner and shook her head.

"Not at all," she said. "I'm expecting company, though. Heero's on his way back, so let him in the gate when he gets here. Do you mind calling out for some Chinese?"

"Of course not. Let me get a pen." Stephanie scrabbled off-camera for a pen and some paper. "Okay. What would you like?"

"Two orders of chicken or something," she said vaguely. She still wasn't hungry, and Heero would eat whatever was put in front of him. "And one vegetarian dish, too. Oh, and please get something for yourselves. Just take it out of the petty cash; I'll straighten things out in the morning."

Stephanie nodded. "I've got it. Have a good evening, Ms. Relena."

The screen went black and Relena sagged into her chair. _Where could they be?_

Torstin, finished with his dinner, pawed at her knees. Relena rubbed his ears gently, and smiled when he covered her free hand with doggy kisses. She didn't know what she would have done these past six weeks without him around. The house was just too lonely when it was empty.

She hadn't realized how much she enjoyed Heero's near-silent presence until he'd left. But she dreaded his return. Their last argument had left too many things out in the open, while leaving too much unsaid at the same time. Relena knew another fight was brewing. And she knew how it was going to end, too. There was only one way it could end.

Torstin whined, breaking her train of thought. Relena patted him again, and told herself that she'd cross that bridge when she got to it. She wasn't looking forward to her next private conversation with Heero, but worrying wasn't going to make it any better.

She wondered if a cup of tea would sooth her nerves. She put the kettle on and went to the huge walk-in pantry to get the box of tea while she waited for the water to boil.

Torstin barked and rushed to the kitchen door as it creaked open. Relena dropped the box, scattering tea bags everywhere, in her haste to stop her guard dog from taking out the intruder. He wouldn't listen to Heero—he'd been specifically trained to only accept commands from women.

"Torstin!" she cried, just as the person in the kitchen barked an order at the dog.

"Setzen!"

Relena emerged from the pantry to see Torstin sitting obediently in front of her daughter, wagging his tail as if he'd known her all his life. Relena wondered how Faith had known exactly what to say to Torstin, but now wasn't the time for questions.

"Faith," Relena murmured. Faith looked up, startled, and smiled. She had her father's smile, but that didn't come as a surprise. From the day she was born, it had been obvious that Faith was going to take after Heero.

"Hi, Mom," she said, almost sheepishly. "Sorry we're late. Dad let me out by the door; he's gone to put the car in the garage."

She even sounded a bit like Heero; she had a deep voice for a girl, and she spoke quietly. Someone who didn't know her would think that she spoke in a monotone, but the inflection was there. It was just subtle.

It was one thing to talk to Faith on the phone from time to time—everyone looked and sounded different over the phone—and another to see her in person. She was a mess. Her hair was bedraggled and frizzing out of its braid, and there were circles under her eyes. She looked pale and tired. She wore Heero's work jacket over what looked like school clothes. Her only luggage was a small backpack; Relena guessed they must have left in a hurry.

The sight of her daughter standing in the doorway, even unkempt and exhausted, was still the best thing Relena had seen in a long time.

Relena nearly tripped over Torstin in her rush to get to Faith. He danced around them, wagging his tail and panting excitedly.

Relena hugged Faith tightly, silently promising herself that she'd never let her daughter go again. It had been too hard to get her back the after the last time.

* * *

><p>Faith was tired after her long day. And her dad's driving lesson hadn't helped any. She wasn't sure she liked driving. There were too many other cars and too many crazy rules, and her dad had been utterly calm through the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't at all afraid of dying in a fiery crash. She'd been more than happy to hop out of the car at the end of the driveway and go inside while he parked it.<p>

She hadn't been expecting such an enthusiastic greeting, though. First from the dog, who'd charged at her like it was planning to tear a limb off, and then from her mom, who'd done almost the same thing.

For the first few seconds, Faith simply stood in the open doorway and let her mom hug her. She'd tried hugging her back and then releasing her, but it was useless. Her mom clung to her, half-sobbing and babbling nonsense. She wouldn't let go.

Faith stood as still as she could, but the draft blowing in from the open door made her shiver. She was relieved to see her dad come into the kitchen through another door. She shot him a pleading look and watched him smirk and shake his head.

_I am so screwed,_ she thought. _It isn't just Dad. They're both insane._

She gave it another couple of seconds and then tried making sad faces at her dad again. He rolled his eyes at her.

"Relena," he said. "Let her go. You're suffocating her."

Her mom released her guiltily, and Faith took a deep breath. She was exaggerating, of course, but she really did need some air.

"I'm so sorry," her mom said, smiling down at her. Mentally, Faith sighed. She hated being shorter than everyone else. "Ever since I saw what happened on the news this morning, I've just been so worried. Are you—okay?"

Faith nodded. "I think so," she said. "My psychiatrist might tell you something different, but you shouldn't listen to her. I got tired of taking all those boring personality tests and started filling in random answer bubbles. Now she thinks I'm a sociopath."

Her mom's smile disappeared. "You probably shouldn't have done that."

"She's joking," her dad muttered, frowning at her. "You can tell—her mouth moves. Don't scare your mom like that, Faith."

It wasn't really a joke, but Faith decided to let it go. There was no sense in worrying her parents, and Dr. Lillian would eventually realized that it was a prank. It was nice that her dad was starting to understand her, though—life was too short for solemnity.

"Sorry," Faith mumbled. "Usually people know when I'm being facetious. I'm okay, Mom. Really."

The black dog sat panting next to her mom. Faith remembered the guard dog, Mishka, and the dog's strange command language. Mishka met Faith's eyes and wagged her tail. Faith reached out and Mishka pressed her head under Faith's hand.

"Gut," Faith murmured, praising Mishka in the strange language the dog handlers spoke. "I can't believe you still have Mishka. She looks good for such an old dog."

Awkward silence followed. Faith looked at her parents and saw raw shock in her mom's face and sadness in her dad's.

"Aw, crap," she muttered, taking a closer look. "This is a different dog."

Mishka had been large, but not quite so bulky. There had been bits of red in her fur, where this dog was mostly black. And he was male.

"Mishka passed away about three years ago," her dad explained. "We got Torstin from the same breeder. They're related, but it's pretty distant."

"Torstin is a lot like Mishka. He's a German-bred, German-trained, German-speaking, German shepherd." Relena said proudly. She smiled down at Torstin, and he thumped his tail on the floor. "He's a lot younger than Mishka was when we got her, and he's still a little rough around the edges, but he's a good working dog."

"What does he do?" Faith asked.

"He mostly works in the mail room," her dad said. "I hear he's getting to be pretty good at sorting packages."

Faith almost laughed. So her dad did have a sense of humor hidden under all that stoicism. Her mom didn't seem to think it was so funny, though; she elbowed him gently.

"He checks my mail for things like drugs, chemical weapons, and bombs," Relena explained. "He's also a guard dog; he keeps intruders out of the house and he warns me if a stranger's creeping up on me when we're out on the street. Things like that."

Torstin settled beside Faith, panting. She looked down at him and met his doggy grin with one of her own.

"Gib-laut," she said. He barked obediently, and she laughed. He barked again, excitedly, and half-jumped into her arms. Faith couldn't support his weight; she toppled to the kitchen floor and was stuck there until her dad hauled Torstin off of her.

"Sorry," she said, scrambling back to her feet. "I didn't think he'd get that excited."

Her mom shook her head, smiling. "I can see that there's never a dull moment when you're around. It's just what we need. This place could use a little livening up. Come on—dinner should be here before much longer, and I'm sure you'd like to get cleaned up first. I'll take you to your room."

"I'll let the dog out while you do that," her dad said, leading Torstin off by his collar.

Faith followed her mom through the house. She really did want to put her schoolbag down and at least fix her hair. She was sure it looked horrible after being stuffed down the back of her dad's stupid jacket all afternoon.

* * *

><p>Heero let Torstin loose in the fenced back yard and went back inside. He'd bark when he wanted to come in, and it was too cold to stand around outside and wait for the dog to take care of business.<p>

The kettle was steaming, but Relena was still with Faith, so Heero took it off the burner for her. He went into the pantry and found the scattered mess of tea bags all over the floor. It was like her to just drop everything when something surprised her. He picked up the tea bags, chose something fruity and herbal, and put the rest away.

The tea was steeping when Relena came back into the kitchen by herself. She was beautiful, even in her worn out jeans and sweater. She padded across the tile floor in a pair of thick athletic socks, and Heero felt his heart beat a little faster with every step she took toward him.

"I think Faith is going to go ahead and have a shower," she explained. He nodded. He didn't think he was capable of speech just yet, not with Relena looking like perfection in front of him. "What happened? Why did you bring her here?"

He'd been dreading the question, and dreading the fight that would probably follow. He was tired of fighting; he just wanted to pull Relena close and make up. He sighed inwardly and decided not to drag things out.

"Relena, how long have you been in touch with Faith?" he asked. She frowned.

"I guess she told you," Relena murmured, looking away. "I'm sorry. I should have said something, but I was afraid you'd make me stop calling."

"She didn't say anything," he replied. He didn't want to get Faith in trouble with Relena over something so trivial. "You told me yourself, when we called you from the space harbor. You called her Fay. Duo's kids gave her that nickname after she started living there."

"Oh." Relena looked back at him, eyes blazing. "I don't see what that has to do with anything, Heero. Don't change the subject. She was supposed to be safe there. That's why we sent her to live with Duo in the first place. What happened?"

"They found her." Heero didn't need to tell Relena who "they" were. He saw the realization dawn in her eyes and he hated himself for making her feel guilty. "I don't have anything solid to go on yet, but I think somebody might have traced your phone calls. I need to know how long you've been contacting her and see if there's a connection."

She nodded. "It's been about five years now. I don't just talk to Faith, though—I try to give all of the kids the same attention. I send them birthday cards, too. I've been careful. I make most of my calls through a disposable cell phone. I give Julia cash to buy the cards, and she mails them for me, too. They don't go out with the office mail."

_She has been careful_, Heero thought. If the Red Fang had gotten to Faith through Relena, it had been recently. As far as he could tell, they'd only been on her trail for a few weeks. But how they had found her was almost beside the point; all he wanted was to catch them. He'd do whatever it took.

Relena glared up at him, defensive, and Heero unhappily ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't wanted to upset her. He couldn't blame her for reaching out to Faith. But Relena seemed upset; he wanted to hold her and tell her that it was fine, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea. She'd been so prickly lately.

"I want to see your phone records," he said gently, trying to reassure her. "I just want to find out how they found her, Relena. That's all. If I can find out how they tracked her down, maybe I can learn who found her."

"I'll have them sent over to you," she said, relaxing slightly. She leaned the tiniest bit closer to him as they talked. It was hard to be this close to her and not touch her.

Heero couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled her close and held her against his chest. She was so soft, and so warm. Everything about her was perfect. She even smelled amazing. He'd forgotten how much he loved her perfume. She tensed at the suddenness, but quickly relaxed again. He smiled when she ran a hand through his hair.

"You look awful," she murmured.

"It can't be that bad. We've known each other so long. I know you've seen me at my worst," he reminded her. She smiled a knowing smile.

"I guess I have," she replied, gently tracing a finger down his jaw and sending delicious shivers down his spine. He already needed to shave again, but it could wait. She wasn't mad. They weren't fighting. He was going to take advantage of the situation, right here in the kitchen if he had to. They _had_ to talk, and now seemed like as good a time as any.

"You're beautiful," he said, bending to kiss her. She hesitated briefly before kissing him back and running her fingers through his hair. Maybe he'd let it grow a little; Relena seemed to like playing with it, and it felt _so _good.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips. He pulled back slightly, just far enough to press kisses to her nose, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. She sighed and leaned into him.

"I love you, too," she whispered. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. He kissed her eyelids, just to be thorough, before reluctantly pulling away. They still needed to talk. And now was definitely a good time.

"I missed you," he said. "This whole separation thing—I hated it, Relena. I want to fix things; I'll do anything you want. Anything."

She took a step back. He let her go, and watched her chest heave as she took a calming breath. When she met his eyes, her gaze was cool.

"I want a divorce."

* * *

><p>Notes: Before you get the rotten fruit ready to hurl, please keep in mind that this story is set over the course of a week and a lot can happen in seven days. :D<p>

Thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, adds, etc. You guys really make my day.

German shepherd commands:  
>Setzen-Sit<p>

Gut-Good

Gib-laut-Speak


	13. Chapter 13

_She wants a divorce?_ It wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. But it shouldn't have been a surprise. Not with the way she'd been avoiding him. She'd been secretive and moody even before she'd suggested a separation, telling him that she needed time to think and asking for just a week or two to herself. And Heero had agreed, thinking he was helping her by giving her some space.

She couldn't have hurt him worse if she'd shot him. Heero let his arms fall to his sides and let his military training take over. He squared his shoulders, and met Relena's level stare with one of his own. At least he could look calm on the outside, even if he was anything but calm on the inside.

"Relena—" he started. She held up a hand, stopping him. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring. Heero wondered when she had stopped wearing it. He couldn't recall ever removing his own ring since the day she'd put it on his finger. He glanced down at his hand, wondering if it would even come off now. Relena cleared her throat, and he decided to leave it. They needed to talk, and he didn't want to take the damn thing off anyway.

"I love you," Relena said. "I always will. But I just can't do this anymore. Between your job and mine, we hardly see each other. Even when we are both home, we rarely talk unless it's to argue about something. We don't share any common interests. And now that Faith is back, I'm just not sure it's a healthy atmosphere for her."

Heero scowled. It was a lame argument, especially for a woman who'd made her living arguing with people.

"You're making excuses," he said, trying not to make it sound like an accusation. He wanted to prove his point without offending Relena or putting her on the defensive. "It was your idea for us both to work away from home. And we used to do all kinds of things together—we went horseback riding, we took trips to the beach. We stopped because you said you didn't have time. If you wanted things to change, all you had to do was ask."

She flushed and glanced away, embarrassed. "And I suppose the next thing you're going to say is that this is a fine way to raise our daughter."

"No." Heero sighed. "But we don't have to worry about that. She's going back to Duo as soon as Trowa says it's safe—probably next week sometime. It's what she wants."

"Oh." Relena looked crestfallen for a moment, but then her eyes narrowed and she snapped back angrily. "Why wasn't I included in that discussion? I'm her _mother_. Why didn't you call?"

"Because you weren't answering your phone," Heero replied, staring her down. If she wanted someone to blame, all she needed to do was look in the mirror. She didn't need to know that there had been no time to call—she wouldn't have answered anyway. "There was no discussion, Relena. I let Faith choose because she's old enough to decide where she wants to stay. It isn't fair for us to dictate where she lives and what she can and can't do. We haven't been there for her. We barely know her."

"And whose fault is that?" she demanded. "It was your idea to leave her there. And you were the one who said we shouldn't contact her."

"You agreed to it," he reminded her. "At that time, it seemed like it was the only way Faith would have a normal life. I didn't just take her away from you and leave her with Duo. We discussed it and we made a decision together. I didn't like it any more than you did, Relena."

He met her gaze until she looked away. If she really wanted an argument, he'd give her one. But he'd hate every second of it. He was tired of fighting.

"She chose Duo," Relena mumbled. She sagged against the counter and looked down at her hands. She frowned for a moment, and Heero realized that she was looking for her wedding ring. She always fiddled with it when she was upset about something; she couldn't have taken it off that long ago if she still expected it to be on her finger. She looked back up at him, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"She has a life there," Heero said gently, trying to give Relena all the reassurance he could. He pulled her into a hug because he couldn't help himself. He hated seeing her unhappy. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face into his shirt. He knew that being close was comforting for both of them; he wondered what had happened to make Relena want to give that up.

"She could have a life here," Relena argued.

"It wouldn't be the same." Heero combed his fingers through Relena's hair and felt her sigh. "If Faith came to stay with us, she'd have to give up her friends, her hobbies, her education—and for what? To live in this huge, empty house and be alone all the time? She can't spend all day at your office, waiting for you to have a spare minute for her. And she won't want to just hang around with me all the time either. We can't do that to her, Relena."

"Damn you," she whispered. "I hate it when you're right."

"I hate it, too," he said. "Now. Tell me what's really wrong, Relena. Tell me why you've decided that our problems are so bad they can't be fixed."

She pulled back, far enough that she could look up at him, but not so far that she was out of his grasp. He could feel her breathing grow fast and shallow, and he knew her heart was pounding. Whatever it was, it was bad.

"I—" she started.

The doorbell rang. Heero's phone beeped a second later; the stupid thing had decided to work again. Relena jerked back, out of Heero's arms.

"I should get that," she said, rushing away.

He grabbed her elbow, pulling her back. She stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he wondered when she'd stopped trusting him.

"We're going to finish this later," he said.

"No," Relena replied. "We are finished. You can stay for dinner, but after that—I think it's best if you just go."

She walked away and Heero didn't try to stop her a second time. He answered his phone instead; it was Trowa.

* * *

><p>Calling dinner awkward would be like calling a hurricane a refreshing summertime breeze, Faith decided. She ate because she was hungry, but she secretly wished she could click her heels together and wake up at home, surrounded by her noisy, chaotic adopted family.<p>

_This is insane. I always wanted to know what it would be like to be with my real family again. And now that I know, I'd rather be anywhere but here,_ she thought. _Maybe I should have just stayed with those Red Fang guys._

She didn't know what had happened between her parents while she was in the shower, but it couldn't have been good. Her mom was silent and sad. She picked at her food, occasionally dropped a piece of chicken on the floor for Torstin, and didn't eat anything herself. Her dad was just—blank. It didn't look like anybody was home.

Faith couldn't stand it. But she knew, thanks to five years of family counseling—which Duo had insisted on after the shuttle incident, and four years of weekly sessions with a school psychiatrist—required for every student at Dalton—that there was nothing she could do to fix things.

So she didn't try. She ate her dinner without tasting it, and leaned the little wooden chopsticks against one corner of her paper takeout box when she was done. Exhaustion set in once her stomach was full. She tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn.

A few seconds later her dad pushed his chair back and collected her empty box with his own.

"Get your things," he said. "We have to go."

"Faith doesn't have to go anywhere, Heero," her mom said, shooting him a fierce look. "She's more than welcome here."

"What?" Faith asked, startled into awareness by her dad's sudden leap into action. "What's wrong?"

"Trowa called while you were in the shower," he explained. "One of the men who tried to kidnap you, and four others who are suspected accomplices, got away before they could shut the spaceport down. Your mom doesn't want me to stay here, and she doesn't have enough security to protect you both. You know what will happen if they find you here."

"Yeah," Faith whispered.

She walked out of the kitchen, feeling defeated. The door swung shut behind her and, instead of going to collect her bag, she sidestepped out of the doorway and stayed to eavesdrop on her parents' hushed argument.

"Heero, you're being irrational," her mom hissed. "Nobody has tried to get into this place in almost ten years! We'll be fine."

"In one morning, those terrorists blew up a car, tried to gun down a four-year-old, abducted our daughter, and planted a bomb in the colony spaceport. Seven people died and about a hundred more were injured," her dad said bluntly. "Two women and a German shepherd might be enough to keep the paparazzi from taking pictures of you in the hot tub, but they won't be enough to stop these men, Relena."

Faith blinked back tears. _So many people got hurt because of me_, she thought. _I can't be selfish and let Mom get hurt. Too many people rely on her._

"These people don't care who they hurt," her dad continued. "And if something happens to you, it could mean another war. People are fanatical about you, even after all this time. Civilians would start arming themselves again, and you know how things would go from there."

Silence followed. Faith tiptoed away to collect her bag; by this point, they were talking loudly enough that she'd hear them from the other room.

"You're overreacting, Heero," her mom said. "If anything were to happen to me, there are procedures in place to prevent another war from breaking out. You're the one who drafted most of them. I'm not afraid of dying—"

"I don't want you to die," her dad interrupted. "You can hate me all you want, Relena. You can throw me out, block my calls, divorce me, and it won't change a thing. I meant every word I said to you on the day we were married, and I still do. You know how to reach me if you want to talk things over."

Faith blinked back tears—_They're getting a divorce?—_and walked back through the swinging door. Her mom was still sitting at the table; her shoulders shook and her face was buried in her hands. Her dad waited by the back door. His face was an empty mask, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was hurting beneath it.

"Let's go," he said quietly. She shook her head and he scowled at her.

"I'll stay here while you get the car," she said. "Who knows if I'll ever get to see Mom face-to-face again? Another minute or two won't make that much of a difference."

His fierce expression disappeared and he left without saying anything. It didn't seem like he disapproved. Faith stepped over Torstin to give her mom a quick hug.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Dad's nuts about you, Mom. Even I can tell, and today's the first time I've seen either of you in, well, a long time. Why won't you let him stay?"

"I know your dad still cares about me, honey," her mom whispered. "It isn't that I don't love him anymore—I do. It's just that neither of us is really happy living like this. When your father fought in the war, he did a lot of regrettable things, things that probably had to be done so we could have a lasting peace. Some people just can't let that go. And it means that the two of us can't have the kind of life that we'd like. We can't have you. We can't be a family at all. And I really, really want my chance to be a mom, Faith, before it's too late."

"You have your chance now," Faith said. "Even if it's just for a little while. You've put up with Dad this long. I bet you can manage another week if you put your mind to it."

The car horn honked outside, and her mom made a noise that started out like a chuckle and ended in a sob.

"I'd better not keep him waiting," she said. "He might really put me on a leash this time, and I'm too tired to give him much more hell tonight. I mean, I know it's my sworn duty as a teenager to make him utterly miserable and all, but it's been a long day and he really is trying to look out for me. But will you do me a favor, Mom?"

"Anything, Fay."

"Call if you change your mind about all this? I really don't want to spend all week hanging out with Dad. He tries, but you know how he is."

Faith headed for the door, knowing that Dr. Lillian wouldn't approve of what she'd done. Faith didn't care, though—it felt right to try and push her parents back together. She'd done what she could. The rest was up to her mom.

* * *

><p>Heero didn't go back into the city. He drove down the coastal road, heading for a secluded beach house owned by a man named Odin Lowe. It was a place he'd bought years ago, so he and Relena would have a place to go when they really needed to get away.<p>

So far, even though it was only a half-hour away from Relena's seaside villa, no one had ever bothered them when they visited it. The beach house wasn't a long-term solution for Heero and Faith because of its location and lack of security, but it would do for a night or two and it was probably safer than a hotel.

Faith was silent in her seat; she seemed to be dozing. Heero stayed quiet, too. He didn't want to bother her, and he had a lot to think about.

_Relena,_ he thought. It was still a shock. She hadn't seemed unhappy before. Just—busy. Very, very busy. But what politician wasn't? Relena had been in politics her entire adult life—she'd started out as the Vice Foreign Minister, and had followed that up with three consecutive terms in the Foreign Minister's seat. She was on her fourth term now. She'd turned down more than one presidential nomination as well as numerous other offers. Relena had always seemed happy in her work, and happy with him. They never talked about Faith, though. It was too much for either of them to handle. Maybe that was the problem?

He couldn't dwell on those problems now. Faith had to come first. They'd spend the night at the beach house, and make plans in the morning. He needed to access the databases at Preventer HQ, and he'd have to go to the office to do that. They needed to find a more secure location, too, but that was also something that could wait until they'd had a chance to rest.

There was no moon, and the road was dark. Heero almost missed the driveway. He found it, though, and put the car in park while he hopped out to open the gate. His cell phone was ringing when he got back in; Faith was sound asleep and he considered dropping the call into voicemail and letting her rest. It was from a blocked number, though, so he answered it anyway on the off-chance that it might be Trowa.

"Heero?"

"Relena." She sounded panicked. "What is it?"

"Come home," she said. "If I can put up with you and your moods and your crazy, overprotective streak for almost twenty years, I can do it for another week. I'm not going to miss out on a chance to see my daughter just because I'm having problems with _you_."

He smiled into the darkness. This was the Relena he knew and loved—the woman who was strong enough to stand up to him, no matter what stupid stunts he pulled. If she was still so strong, and so brave, maybe things would be okay after all.

"Are you going to tell me what those problems are?" he asked as he put the car into reverse and turned around.

She was quiet for so long that he wondered if the phone had quit working again.

"I'm not ready to talk about that yet," she whispered. "It's—I can't. Not yet."

He wondered what could possibly be so bad. The tabloids all hinted that she was seeing someone, a young ESUN representative from England. Fielding. Something.

"It isn't that Fielding guy, is it?" he asked.

"What? No. Definitely not. Eric's just someone I know from work, Heero. He wants my help with a project, that's all."

It sounded like too much protesting to Heero, but he didn't argue. In the passenger seat, Faith suddenly stiffened and moaned. She thrashed against the seat belt for a few seconds before going limp.

"What was that?" Relena asked.

_That,_ he thought, _was a seizure. Not good._

"I have to go," he replied. "We'll be there soon."

He stopped the car and turned on the dome light so he could check on Faith. She still seemed to be asleep, but her hands clenched into fists and she shivered slightly. She woke with a gasp a second later.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Dad," she said, frowning up at him. Her eyes were dilated and she seemed disoriented.

"Yeah," he replied. "Do I need to take you to a hospital?"

"No. No, no, no, no. N—"

"Faith. Shush." He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her as he had when she was a toddler. She scowled up at him; she'd hated it then, too.

"We're going to go home," he said, wondering if she understood what he was saying. She didn't seem to be coherent. "Are you going to be okay?"

She let out a little sigh and abruptly slumped over and started snoring. Heero switched the dome light off and, hoping he was doing the right thing, drove back to the villa.

* * *

><p>Notes: This one was a little glum, too, but things are going to lighten up starting in the next chapter. Promise! There's a one-shot to accompany this chapter up in my other story, Behind the Scenes. There'll be another one when I upload Chapter 14, too. It might be a bit before Chapter 14 is ready-the next week or so is going to be busy what with work, a bachelorette party (not mine, sadly, but there will be karaoke :D), and then a trip out of town. I'll do the best I can, though! Check my profile page if you really want to know how it's coming along.<p>

Thanks so much for all your reviews, alerts, favorites, etc. It's so encouraging!


	14. Chapter 14

**I have a favor to ask of my readers. Check the author's note at the end of the chapter if you want to help me out a little. This one gets pretty dark toward the end, and I'm not sure I should leave it that way.**

* * *

><p>Everything was different on Earth. In Faith's eyes, the planet was a mix between a proud exhibition of the human ingenuity and a disgusting display of abject consumerism. The marble façades were half-hidden under billboards and advertisements for fast food, clothing, jewelry, and electronics. The decorative columns fluttered with flyers, and there were signs taped up in every window.<p>

And that was just the mall. It was eye-catching, glamorous, and utterly obscene. Faith stuck close to her dad, even though it was totally awkward to be around him in public. He'd gone into crazy overprotective mode again, and Faith had just about had enough.

"I don't understand why we couldn't have waited for Mom to finish up at work," Faith complained. "She said it was only going to be a half-day."

"We would have attracted too much attention," her dad replied. "People love her—they always have. And right now, we need to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible."

"Right," Faith sighed. "And _you_ don't attract enough attention?"

He shot her a questioning look.

"Your _hair._ It looks like you cut it yourself. Without the aid of a mirror. Possibly in the dark. Why do you _think_ everybody stares when they walk past us?"

His look turned into a glower. "The light was on," he muttered.

"Sure it was, Dad."

They stood in front of a department store, waiting for who-knew-what. Her dad was tense and alert in the open space. Faith thought she understood his concern; it would be easy for an assassin to take a shot at someone and make a clean getaway in the crowd. He jerked his head up when he spotted whatever he'd been looking for.

"Over here, Lucy."

Her dad waved to a woman in dark jeans and a soft yellow sweater. She was thirty-something with a gentle smile and the beginnings of laugh lines around her eyes. She looked familiar, but Faith couldn't quite place her. A boy about Lexi's age clung to her hand; he lit up when he saw them, and half-dragged his mom over.

"Uncle Heero!" Faith covered her smile as the kid latched himself onto her dad's leg. "Don't go away again! Mom won't let me play soccer inside. Will you play with me later?"

"We'll see, Gio," he said, gently patting the boy's head. "But right now, I need to talk to your mom. Can you be quiet for a while?"

Gio nodded and pretended to zip his lip and throw away the key. It reminded Faith of Lexi, and her heart ached with homesickness.

"What did you do to your hair, Heero?" Lucy asked, grinning broadly at him. "I almost didn't recognize you."

He made a face. "This is Faith," he said, shoving Faith forward instead of answering the question.

"I thought so. You two just look so much alike," Lucy said, offering Faith a handshake. "Lucrezia Noin. These days, everyone just calls me Lucy."

"Aunt Lucy!" Faith grinned at her aunt, pleased that she'd made the connection. Lucy just looked really different. She'd grown out her hair and her features had softened with age. She wasn't fat or out of shape, but she wasn't skin and bones anymore either. "Are you still with that scary robot guy? Mom's brother?"

Lucy had a joyful laugh. "Relena told me you were full of surprises," she said. "I guess I should have believed her. Zechs and I parted ways a long time ago, so I'm not really your aunt, Faith. I don't mind if you want to call me Aunt Lucy, though. Your mom asked me to come shopping with you. She didn't think Heero would know what's appropriate for a teenage girl to wear."

"No way, Mom!" Gio argued. "Uncle Heero knows everything. Aunt Lena said so. She said he's a know-it-all and a total smarta—"

Faith snickered as her dad clapped a hand over Gio's mouth before he could get the rest of that last word out. _Little ears_, she thought. _You never know what kids are gonna pick up when you talk over their heads like that._

"I thought Uncle Heero asked you to be quiet and let the grownups talk," Lucy said, raising an eyebrow at her son. Gio zipped it again, wide-eyed. "That's better."

"This is Georgio," Lucy said to Faith. "He likes to keep me on my toes. I think we're both lucky Heero likes babysitting as much as he does."

"Maybe I just like playing soccer in the house on rainy days." Faith watched her dad unsuccessfully try to pry Gio off his leg. "Maybe I won't feel like playing later if you don't let go now."

Gio scrambled back to Lucy's side, and it was hard not to giggle. The kid was obviously smitten with his Uncle Heero, and it didn't take much effort to figure out that the feeling was mutual.

"Want to get started? This is as good a place as any." Lucy motioned to the department store behind them. Faith shrugged and peeked at the store directory.

"Hey, they have a salon here," she said. "You can get your hair fixed while Aunt Lucy and I shop, Dad. It'll be fun. And Mom won't have a heart attack when she sees you looking like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket."

"Not a chance," he replied. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. It's too dangerous."

"You really think anybody's going to try something here?" Lucy asked. When he didn't look convinced, she added, "I have my Browning. There's a stun gun in my purse and pepper spray on my key ring. If you recall, I also have a black belt."

"I don't see why this is such a big deal," he said. "It's just hair. It grows back."

It didn't look like it would take much more pushing to change her dad's mind. Faith gave it another try—she really didn't want him embarrassing her while she tried to pick out clothes.

"You make people nervous on a good day, Dad," she said. "On a bad day, you look a little bit like a serial killer. And, in case you haven't realized it yet, today is not good day."

"I don't think my hair has anything to do with that," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing her with a cold stare.

_Fine_, she thought. _Looks like it's time to bring out the big guns._

She walked into the store. The lingerie department was right by the entrance, and there was a massive display of racy underwear laid out on glass tables. Faith snagged a couple of thongs and inspected them a second before turning to her dad with her most innocent expression.

"Which do you like better, Dad? The leopard print or the lacy red one?"

"Neither," he replied, scowling at her.

"Oh. So, what? You think I should just go without?"

Her dad glanced at Lucy. "The Browning's loaded, right?"

"You know it," she replied, grinning.

"Call me when you're done. Come on, Gio. You look like you could use a haircut, too."

Faith waited until her dad was out of sight before putting the thongs back on the table and straightening out the mess she'd made.

"I didn't think that would work," Lucy said, smiling at Faith. "Do you mind if I tell Relena about that? She hates shopping with him along —he scares the salespeople."

"It won't work for Mom," Faith replied. "Guys don't mind shopping for lingerie with their wives or girlfriends. But no man wants to picture his daughter wearing something that looks like dental floss. I learned that from Hilde."

"That makes me wish I'd had a chance to get to know her better," Lucy said as they headed for the escalator. "If everything I've heard about her is true, she must be one heck of a lady."

"I've always thought so."

* * *

><p>The selection was overwhelming, and without Duo around telling her that she couldn't have anything that wasn't school appropriate, Faith was having a hard time choosing.<p>

"I'm no good at this," she complained, trying to decide between a nice pair of slacks and some comfortable-looking jeans.

"It just takes time to figure out what works for you," Lucy said. "Take them both. You ought to have at least one nice outfit here, just in case you go by your mom's office or something."

It seemed like a good idea. Faith added them both to the handful of things she wanted to try on. A salesgirl was holding the things they were definitely getting—a jacket, a couple of sweaters, and some sensible underwear—at the register.

"Aunt Lucy?" Faith asked, rifling through a clearance rack and coming up with nothing, "Do you think my parents are getting a divorce?"

"What?" Lucy frowned. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Something I overheard last night. Mom seems really upset at Dad, and I don't think he knows why."

Lucy sighed. "It's probably just a rough patch, Faith. Your mom's going through a lot of stuff right now, and I don't think she's told your dad all of it yet. But he's there for her. He always has been. Once she gets things figured out for herself, I think everything will be fine."

"You think so?" Faith asked, picking up a t-shirt and rejecting it after a moment's thought. "What if she decides that she's happier without him?"

"I guess that's possible," Lucy said sadly. "It's what happened to Zechs and me. We were on-again, off-again for years before I finally realized that he was never going to change. I'd give, and give, and give, trying to make him happy, and he just took it for granted. If we disagreed on something, there was no discussion; he did what he wanted, whether I liked it or not. And we didn't share the same goals in life, either—I wanted a family. He didn't. I wanted to go back to Earth someday. He wanted to stay on Mars. One day, I realized that I'd never have the life I wanted if I wasted my youth waiting around for him. I didn't even tell him I was leaving; I just threw some clothes in a bag and got on a shuttle. I don't have many regrets about my decision."

"Oh." Faith picked out another pair of jeans, a dark pair like the ones Lucy had on, and matched them with a violet shirt that Maggie would have loved. "It sounds like that was pretty crappy. I'm surprised you have any regrets at all."

"I feel like a coward for not saying goodbye. I didn't even leave a note." Lucy sighed. She unfolded a blouse from a table and held it up to Faith. It was a deep blue, almost as dark as her eyes, and it would go great with those slacks they'd found earlier. They added it to the pile. "But leaving was just the icing on the cake—I never told him about Gio. I didn't find out I was pregnant until I got back to Earth. It was a miracle—although we can safely have children in the colonies now, travel between Earth and space is still dangerous for women who are expecting. Especially that twelve-week trip between Earth and Mars."

"You were lucky," Faith murmured.

"Yeah," Lucy agreed. "I'm even luckier that your mom was so welcoming after what I did to her brother. Both of your parents were very supportive. And I really don't know what I'd do without Heero. Gio really needs a man to look up to, and I can't think of a better role model than your dad. I don't think anybody expected him to be so good with kids, not with Gio, and definitely not with you when you were born. You two—oh, you were inseparable back then. I think he's missed having you around all this time, Faith."

Faith got that vibe, too. The driving lessons. The overprotective crap. She made a face. He didn't want her to go back to the colonies—that was clear. But Faith wasn't ready to forgive him for leaving her, even if it had been for her own protection. And she wasn't changing schools for anybody, not when she was so close to being done. Her dad had waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

"I think this is more than enough for a week," she said, looking down at the armload of stuff they had picked. "Help me pare it down a little?"

"Go try it on," Lucy said. "We'll decide after we see how it looks and fits. We probably ought to hurry, though. I'm sure your dad's getting anxious by now."

"Right," Faith said. "Thanks for helping me, Aunt Lucy. And thanks for telling me all that stuff. I'm sorry about you and Zechs."

Lucy shrugged. "I'm not," she replied. "I have the life I wanted now, even if it's a little harder than I'd expected. Single motherhood is not for the fainthearted, Faith."

"I'll keep that in mind, Aunt Lucy."

They got a number from the fitting room attendant and Faith went to try things on. Without her dad around to make her nervous, shopping wasn't as bad as she'd feared it would be. It was almost fun, even.

* * *

><p>It took everything Heero had to sit still in the food court and keep his hands on the table instead of on his gun. Gio had been hungry after waiting around for Faith and Lucy to finish shopping, so Lucy had suggested lunch.<p>

Heero had wanted to go home; he'd been outvoted. And he'd been outvoted again when the kids wanted to try the arcade games after they finished eating.

"Let them have their fun," Lucy suggested. "They might behave better if we let them tire themselves out a bit first."

It wasn't a bad suggestion, so he'd given in. The arcade was visible from their table, and he didn't want Faith to feel like a prisoner.

"Faith told me that she overheard you and Relena talking about divorce."

Heero didn't take his eyes off the kids. "Yeah. Relena won't tell me what's wrong. She just wants me to go."

Lucy sighed. He saw her fidget out of the corner of his eye. As a former soldier, Lucy was used to keeping a cool head in rough situations. She wasn't usually a twitchy person.

"You know what's up."

"I'm not sure I should tell you."

Heero glanced at her, just for a second, before turning back to watch Faith and Gio whack ugly plastic "moles" with padded mallets.

"It isn't that Fielding guy, is it? He—bothers me."

Lucy laughed. "If Relena has a thing for Eric, it's news to me. I don't think he's her type, Heero. He's a little flamboyant, if you get my drift."

Heero didn't know the guy personally, so he wasn't quite sure what Lucy was talking about. But it was good to know that she didn't think Relena was into him. He focused on the kids instead of worrying about it any longer.

"She really hasn't told you anything?" Lucy asked.

"Not a thing," Heero replied. "She asked me to leave for a few days so she could get her head together. I did. She blocked my calls and stopped answering my emails. When I came home last night, she said she wants a divorce. I don't know what's going on, except what I've read in the tabloids—and you know that's all speculation and gossip."

Lucy was silent, but he felt her watching him. He waited; if he played his cards right, she'd tell him everything. It wasn't right—it would be better to hear it from Relena—but at this point, he'd take what he could get.

"I shouldn't tell you," she said reluctantly.

"What would you do in my place?" he asked. "Or in Relena's? In the end, you can only do what you think is right, but—"

"She found out she was pregnant." Lucy blurted it out quickly. "She asked you to leave because she found out she was pregnant when she went in for her annual physical."

Heero looked at Lucy again. He couldn't stop himself, not after that. And neither could she—she kept talking, fast and low, her voice shaking with nerves. She stared at her clenched fists, and her hair hid her face from him.

"After everything that happened when Faith was small, Relena was scared. She didn't know what to do, or how to tell you, and she said she couldn't think straight with you around. So she asked you to go. A week passed, and she couldn't make up her mind. Then it was two weeks. And then—"

Lucy met his eyes. There were wet tracks down her cheeks, and tears in her eyes.

"She lost it," he guessed. She nodded. _Damn._

"She was carrying a box of files down the stairs from her office. She tripped. It wasn't a bad fall, but—it was enough," Lucy murmured. "After that, she couldn't face you. She thinks it's all her fault, and she's afraid you'll be angry with her. She's grieving, Heero, and she isn't thinking straight. It isn't anything you did, and I think she'll come around once she's had some time to mourn."

"Damn," he whispered.

It wasn't good. After giving Faith up, they had stopped trying to have more children. It just wasn't safe. This one had been an accident—the first, since Faith—but that didn't matter. It would have been simple to put it up for adoption. Or, alternately, if Relena was willing to give up her career, they could have gone into hiding and kept it. Having a baby wasn't the end of the world. But losing one—that was something different, and it hurt more than he'd thought it would.

"Thanks, Lucy," he said. "Does anybody else know about this?"

"Sally. She was the doctor who gave Relena the physical, and she was on call when Relena fell down the stairs. She wrote a prescription for antidepressants, but I don't think Relena had it filled. She said it was natural to be depressed after everything that had happened, and she'd find her own way through it."

Heero nodded. Sally was a trustworthy person and a good doctor besides. He knew she would have done everything possible for Relena.

"Thanks," he said again, pushing his chair back and getting up. Lucy stayed put and tried to scrub the tears off her face before Gio saw.

Heero left her at the table and went over to where the kids were playing with a claw machine. He bumped Faith out of the way and took over the controls, easily snagging a stuffed rabbit.

"Don't hide any of my tools in that one," he said, handing it to her. "If you want a toolbox, say so."

"Okay, Dad." She looked at him strangely, and he only shrugged. "Thanks, I guess."

"Come on," he said. "Show me how this skee-ball thing works."

Faith nodded and dropped a coin in the machine. He tossed her one of the wooden balls it spat out and watched her throw it up the ramp. It wasn't that he didn't know how to play—it was a simple game. He just needed a distraction, and there was nothing on Earth that could be better than playing with Faith and Gio.

* * *

><p>Notes: So. About that favor I mentioned-Is Relena's storyline getting too dark? I have an alternate version, one where she doesn't have a miscarriage (where she was never pregnant at all), but I think this is a deeper, richer story for her and it will eventually lead to a more satisfying conclusion. I worry that current the material is too mature for some readers, though, and maybe too depressing. Please let me know what you think. If I get enough comments one way or another, I might change this. I'd really appreciate some feedback.<p>

Okay. On to less serious stuff. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and favorites and adds! I love it! Oh, and if you're wondering about Faith's robot comment, check out Chapter 4-The Rumors-of my other story, Behind the Scenes. :D


	15. Chapter 15

**This is a revised version of Chapter 15. I made a couple of small changes, so if you're one of the people who read this earlier, you might want to skim over it again. But, like I said, small changes. I'll tell you what they were at the bottom-I don't want to spoil anything up here. :D**

* * *

><p>For once, Relena's half-day really was a half-day. She insisted, and when insistence wasn't enough, she simply called for her driver and walked out the door.<p>

She hadn't expected to make it home before anyone else, so instead of going up to her office, she dropped her stack of mail on the kitchen table and tried to relax.

It was easier said than done. Once she escaped her bustling office atmosphere and got home, where there were no political snarls to negotiate, no meetings to attend, or phone calls to answer, or speeches to draft, her personal problems bubbled unbidden to the surface.

Her vision blurred almost as soon as she sat down. _This is never going to go away, is it?_ she asked herself. No wonder Nina had put out tissue boxes on every flat surface in the house. Relena pulled the last tissue from the box on the table and wiped her streaming eyes.

"Torstin. Trash, please."

She handed the empty box to Torstin, and he obediently dropped it into the kitchen bin. He thought fetching and carrying were great games, and Relena liked making him happy.

"Achoo! Torstin. Achoo!"

Torstin pawed the swinging door open and disappeared into the living room. He returned a minute later with the tissues from the coffee table.

"Good boy," Relena praised, smoothing his ears back and taking the tissues from him. "Thank you."

No one was home. There was no telling when Heero and Faith would return, and Relena had given Nina the week off to avoid uncomfortable questions about Faith. She put her head down on the table and let the tears come. Depression was a natural part of grief, but it was much easier to be depressed in private; Relena had never liked being fussed over.

"Why did this happen?" she asked, knowing there was no one around to answer. She looked up, beseeching God, or Fate, or whatever might be up there, to just give her an answer. "I just want my chance to be a mother. To have a family. Is that really too much to ask after all that I've done for everyone else?"

If Fate, or God, or whatever, had any answers, it wasn't giving them up. Relena chastised herself for being so silly and washed her face at the kitchen sink. She made a sandwich, decided she wasn't hungry, and put it in the fridge for later. Torstin had gotten her dinner last night; he didn't need more people food so soon.

Relena sagged back into her chair and started sorting her mail. She'd almost finished when she heard the car pull up to the house.

Faith rushed in and let the door bang shut behind her.

"Is everything okay?" Relena asked.

"Mom! I'm so glad you're home!" Faith dropped a set of car keys into Relena's hand. "Normally I prefer to solve my problems on my own, but I think I'm in over my head this time. Make him stop. _Please_ make him stop. I can't _do_ this, Mom! It's crazy! It's—"

Faith was wide-eyed and overexcited, and although Relena was concerned for her, it was wonderful to feel needed. She had her family for a week, anyway, and she'd make the most of it.

The doorknob rattled.

"Gotta go. Thanks, Mom!"

Faith darted out through the swinging door, probably to her room. Torstin trotted off after her, no doubt thinking this was some new kind of game. Relena looked down at Heero's car keys and bit back a laugh. _I guess this explains why they've been gone so long_, she thought. _I'm not sure who I should feel sorry for._

The door creaked open and her husband walked in with a handful of shopping bags, looking a bit worse for wear.

"You're a wreck. What happened to you?" she asked. She couldn't help it; the words just popped out of her mouth. "Your hair looks nice, though."

"Next time, you're taking Faith shopping without me," he replied, setting the bags on the table. "I'd rather face an entire squadron of mobile dolls than go through that again. Where did she go?"

It was never good when he started talking about mobile dolls. For all that they hadn't existed in over a decade, Heero had yet to find anything more annoying by comparison.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you right now," Relena said, tossing the car keys to him. "What was she doing with these?"

"Driving," he explained, confirming Relena's suspicions. "She's almost as bad as you were. She ran three stop signs, jumped a curb, and went the wrong way down a one way street for a good thirty yards. She almost hit a bus. But she'll never get any better if she doesn't practice. Where did she go, Relena?"

_No wonder he was talking about the mobile dolls again._ It sounded like a hell of a car ride. Relena decided that her sympathy belonged with her daughter—she'd been on the receiving end of one of Heero's driving lessons before—and shot a piteous glance in the direction Faith had gone. Heero noticed and started for the swinging door, and Relena neatly sidestepped into his path.

"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere near her until you explain yourself." Relena crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked.

"It looks like you're making the same mistake with our daughter that you made with me," Relena replied. He scowled at that and she sighed. She really didn't want this to turn into another argument, and she tried to pick her words carefully. "You're a lot of things, Heero. You're a good person, a kind person. But you're not always a patient person. And, I'm sorry, but you're definitely not the person I would choose as a driving instructor. I think you need to stop."

"But—"

"I know," Relena interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "I know this is important to you. If you promise not to bother her about this again until she's ready, I'll go and talk to her."

He looked like he was going to protest. "Listen to me," she told him. "We have a lovely, intelligent daughter. That much is clear. What's also clear is that she's at least as stubborn as you are, and the harder you try to force her to do something, the more she's going to resist. She's only here for a week, Heero. If you want to spend time with her, maybe you should focus more on things that will be fun for her. It's better than trying to push her into something she isn't ready to do."

"Fine," he muttered. He wouldn't admit that she was right, at least not out loud, but his agreement felt like victory to Relena.

"Good." Relena took the shopping bags from him. "It's funny, really. I think you and Faith are just too much alike. Maybe that's why she's so good at pushing your buttons."

"You think so?" he asked as he headed back outside. "Piss her off and she starts throwing her shoes. She didn't get that from me."

"That only happened once!" Relena called after him. "Those shoes were suede, Heero! Suede! You can _not_ push someone into the pool when she's wearing _suede_ shoes and expect her to be okay with it!"

This time it was Heero's turn to slam the door. Relena didn't think she'd ever seen him slam a door before; he wasn't one to take out anger on inanimate objects. At least not in the house. He was far more likely to go to the range and empty a box of ammo into those little paper targets.

"Oh, Heero," she sighed. "I really shouldn't be so hard on him. I'm sure he's doing the best he can."

Thinking of Heero brought on the tears again. Relena wiped them away and carried the shopping bags back to Faith's room. A little time with her daughter would make her feel better, she decided. She could deal with Heero later.

* * *

><p>Faith picked through her mom's shoebox of nail polish with her free hand, deliberately not watching her mom apply pink—<em>Pink! Ew!—<em>enamel to her nails. It was her turn next, and she wanted to pick something suitably garish for her mother's nails. She was debating between chartreuse and fluorescent orange when she felt her mom stop painting.

"Is it done?" she asked. "Duo never lets me do my nails. He says it looks fake."

"We're not quite finished," her mom said. "You need another coat. But we'll let this one dry a minute or two first. How'd things go at the mall?"

"Okay," Faith replied, shrugging. "Dad's kind of a weird guy. He makes people nervous, and everyone was staring. I eventually just bullied him into leaving so I could pick out clothes in peace. I feel kind of bad about that now."

"Oh?"

"I wasn't very nice," Faith said, repentant. She'd apologize to him later. "He bothers me, Mom. He scares people. And he makes me drive that stupid car! Ugh. I used to be excited about getting my license. Now I think I'd rather not. You don't drive, and you get along okay."

Her mom chuckled. "He's the reason I never learned to drive. He gave me one lesson, years and years ago, back when he first joined my security detail. He handed me the keys, showed me how everything worked, and told me it was going to be just fine. Five minutes later, the car was in a ditch. We were still yelling at each other when the tow truck came to pull it out. I think he just expected me to learn faster than I did."

That was part of it, Faith decided. He really seemed to think that driving should come naturally to her, and it didn't.

"I just don't get why it has to be that car," Faith said. "He has a whole garage full of cars to choose from, but he keeps picking that Porsche. It's a nice car, don't get me wrong. But it's a valuable collector car, and it's still in perfect shape. Dad goes all tense when I'm about to do something wrong, and that freaks me out, and then something that would have been a small mistake sort of snowballs into something bigger. I don't understand why he keeps pushing that Porsche on me when he could choose something that isn't quite so valuable."

"Mmm," her mom murmured. She picked up the brush and started applying a second coat of Rockin' Rose to Faith's nails. "Has anyone ever told you about the day you were born?"

"No," Faith said. It was a strange tangential shift, but maybe her mom was just trying to steer the conversation into a more comfortable subject. Hilde liked talking about things like that, too. "I think Duo and Hilde probably had their hands full, since Chris was born on the same day."

"Probably," her mom agreed. "That's okay. You should know, though. Everybody should know at least a little bit about the day they were born. It's a good story, too."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You actually came about two weeks early. It was your father's last day at work before going on leave, so he wasn't home. I think he must have been worried, though, because he asked Lucy to come by and check on me. She got here early, before Nina, even, and just parked behind your dad's Porsche. He'd taken a different car to work that day. I don't remember which one."

Faith wondered, not for the first time, what it felt like to forget details. _It must be annoying_, she thought.

"Anyway," her mom continued, "I had been having the most horrible back spasms all morning. They had started the night before and just gotten continually worse. It's not unusual to have back spasms when you're pregnant, Faith. A lot of women do. I didn't think anything of it, really, except that it was uncomfortable. Neither did Lucy; it was a problem I'd been having for a few weeks, and she knew about it."

"Hilde always had them," Faith said. "It was really bad right before the twins came. She says she had to stop working way sooner than she did with Chris or Dak because her back was so bad."

"I can imagine. I'd love to have another baby, but I'm not sure I want to carry twins." Faith tried to hold extra still while her mom inspected her handiwork. She didn't want to end up with nail polish everywhere. "Anyway, my back was killing me all morning, and it just kept getting worse and worse. And then Nina showed up, took one look at me, and started asking questions. How long ago had the spasms started? And how often was I having them? I tried to tell her—by that point, the spasms were so bad that I couldn't talk while I was having one—and she told Lucy to go call Heero; she thought it was contractions and I had gone into labor."

_Obviously she had, or she wouldn't be telling this story_, Faith thought. But she kept her mouth shut and listened. _I hope she doesn't get too graphic. Ew._

"We couldn't get Heero on the phone. Nina was timing my contractions while Lucy tried every number she could think of to reach your father. I wanted to wait—I really wanted him to be there—but Nina said we had to go, and Lucy finally dragged me out the door. Nina decided to stay behind in case Heero called. But she'd blocked Lucy's car in, and the only one we could access easily was your dad's Porsche."

"That had to suck," Faith said. The car was small and low to the ground. It wasn't especially comfortable for Faith, and she was skin and bones; she couldn't imagine how her mom must have felt in it.

"Oh, yes," her mom said. "You think it's cramped now, try squeezing in there when you're nine months pregnant and having contractions every two minutes. I don't know how fast Lucy was driving, but I do know the hospital is almost an hour away when you drive the speed limit, and we were there in about twenty minutes. But before we even got off the freeway, I knew it was too late; I cried because your dad was going to miss everything.

"But when Lucy parked the car in front of the hospital, he was there. And thank God—if he hadn't been there to help me up, you might have been born in the Porsche. By that point, you were most of the way here. We didn't make it to a delivery room. You were born in the elevator."

"No. No, no, no _way_," Faith groaned. "Please tell me you're making this up. You're not making this up. I can see it in your eyes. Holy crap."

She pulled her hands back, not caring if she ended up with nail polish everywhere. Her mom sat back and laughed.

"Oh, that felt good. I haven't felt like laughing in a long time," she said, wiping her eyes. "Having a baby in an elevator hurt like all hell. And then they took you away, so you wouldn't get an infection from anything you might have been exposed to, and it was a long time before we actually got to see you. But your dad got to be there for it, and I think he thinks it's because of that car. If we'd taken Lucy's old clunker, we never would have made it to the hospital in time."

"I can't believe you're so calm about this," Faith grumbled, shuddering. "Gross."

"How is it gross?" her mom asked. There were tears in her eyes, but they seemed to be happy tears. She was smiling, anyway."I've always thought it was a lovely story. And the look on your dad's face when he held you for the first time—oh, that was wonderful. He was completely smitten, right from the start. He still is, or he wouldn't let you bully him so much. But we're getting off-topic. Do you understand now why that car is so important to your father?"

Faith covered her face with her hands, totally mortified. "Gross, Mom," she muttered, knowing the sound was muffled under her palms and not caring. _I was born in an elevator? _she thought. _Freaking embarrassing! Please, please, please never let the boys find out about this. My life will be OVER! _"Totally, totally gross. But—yeah. I guess I get it."

"Good," her mom said, capping the pink nail polish and dropping the bottle back into the shoebox. "Now go apologize to your father for giving him such a hard time today. You don't have to learn how to drive—he's already promised that he won't try and force you any more—but you do need to be a little nicer to him."

Faith nodded and chose the chartreuse nail polish. It was a particularly hideous vomit-y shade, and it suited Faith's mood perfectly. "We're doing your nails first, though, right?"

Her mom sighed. "I guess. Does it have to be that color?"

"Absolutely," Faith replied. "This is fantastic. I love it."

Her mom spread her fingers out across the desk and Faith unscrewed the lid. _Vengeance, prepare to be mine_, she thought as she started applying the first coat. _That was such a gross story._ _But I get it now. Poor Dad. I've been so awful to him, and he hasn't complained about any of it even once. I think I it's time to let him off the hook for a little while. At least until dinnertime._

* * *

><p>Heero could hear Relena's laugh from across the hall, through two closed doors, and he wondered what was going on. It had been a long time since she'd laughed so freely.<p>

He considered going across the hall to see what was going on, but decided that the girls probably didn't want him butting in. He didn't seem to be on anybody's good side at the moment, and he'd take solitude over ridicule or scorn any day.

His laptop was plugged into the wall, clicking away as it ran basic background checks on the contacts Dak had pulled out of Novak's phone. So far, it hadn't found anything interesting, but that wasn't a surprise. Heero wasn't expecting to find anything useful until he was able to access Preventer's databases, but those was closed to outside access. The basic search was simply a good place to start.

His phone beeped in his pocket. It was a text message—_Call me—_from Trowa.

He went to the vidphone to make the call; Trowa answered on the first ring.

"We found the shuttle that took off before the spaceport closed," he said without preamble. "It crashed on Earth. The pilot is dead, but the others are missing. There are signs that seem to indicate they were picked up from the crash site by helicopter."

"Any idea where they went?" Heero asked, doubting it.

"None. You should probably assume that they're watching Relena's home. I suggest a press release—if you put the word out that Faith your niece or something, maybe they'll think they have the wrong kid and back off."

"Right," he said. It was unlikely, but it was worth a try. "Thanks, Trowa. What else do you have?"

"Not much," the acrobat replied. "We caught one suspect alive, but he isn't talking except to ask for a lawyer. There are two more dead suspects, but so far we haven't been able to find any of their information or belongings. Our only lead is this living suspect, and I can only delay this request for an attorney for so long, Heero."

"So let them talk through a glass wall, over the phone," Heero said. "You and I both know what's going to happen if that guy sees a lawyer in person. The lawyer's going to slip him some cyanide and that'll be the end of it."

Trowa nodded. "I'll have to get permission from Une, but I don't think it'll be a problem," he said. "How are things going with Faith?"

"I don't think she likes me very much," Heero said. "I guess I can't blame her."

"Maybe you're trying too hard," Trowa suggested. "Give her an opening, and then let her come to you. Trust doesn't always come easily to her."

It was better than anything Heero had come up with so far.

"Right," he agreed.

"Tell her hello for me," Trowa said as he ended the call. Heero stared at the blank screen, wondering how Trowa, of all people, had gotten into Faith's good graces. He'd ask next time, if the opportunity presented itself.

He leaned back in his chair to check on his laptop again. Still nothing.

"You're going to crack your skull doing that," Faith said, practically in his ear. "At least, that's what Hilde always says."

"How long have you been standing there?" he demanded, sitting upright again. She watched him, obviously pleased that she'd caught him by surprise.

"Long enough," she replied. "You were on the phone, so I didn't want to knock and bother you. And I kind of wondered if I could sneak in without you noticing."

_Mission accomplished_, he thought ruefully. Duo had taught her pretty well. Privately, he was impressed—but he didn't want her to know that. Her ego didn't need any help.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Oh, Dad," she sighed, pretending to pout. "Why do I have to want something? Maybe I just enjoy your company."

"Maybe I don't believe you," he replied. "You certainly didn't seem to be enjoying it earlier."

"Yes, well, that was then," she said flippantly. "I'm not going to lie to you—I wasn't enjoying it. You scare people, Dad, and it bothers me. But you put up with me, and that counts for something. I'm sorry I was mean to you earlier, Dad."

"Hn." He hadn't been expecting an apology. He wasn't sure what to say. But Faith apparently didn't care; like Relena, she didn't seem to mind his reticence.

"Mom wants us to take Torstin to the beach. She said she has paperwork to catch up on, and we should get out and do something instead of sit around and wait for her."

Heero looked over at his computer again, considering. The laptop would take a while to do its thing, and the weather was nice for the moment. They might as well get out and enjoy it.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

><p>Notes: Thanks so much to everyone who's read and reviewed this! It really means a lot to me. If you haven't already checked out my one-shot series, Behind the Scenes, go do it! The first story touches on this just a little bit. :D<p>

About those changes...Shortly after I posted the old version of this I realized that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for someone to have a baby in a Porsche. Those cares are small! So I tweaked it. Instead of being born in the car, Faith was born in an elevator in the hospital. The car is significant to Heero because, had Lucy been driving something older and slower, they probably wouldn't have made it to the hospital in time and he would have missed being there.


	16. Chapter 16

The truck was a rusted-out, battered old thing, but Faith had to admit that it was better-suited to the beach than her dad's Porsche. Torstin wouldn't have fit in the Porsche, anyway, and this way they didn't have to share space with an enormous, wet dog. Torstin seemed happy in the truck bed, and they'd opened the little back window so he could poke his head into the cab if he wanted.

The beach had been fun. It would have been more fun with the boys and Lexi and Maggie along, but Faith had tried her hardest to make the best of it.

Her dad seemed subdued, though; he'd been out of it since lunch, and Faith wondered if he was still mad at her over the stunt she'd pulled to get rid of him at the mall.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

He shot her a quick glance before looking back at the road again. "What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"I just do," she replied, shrugging. "It isn't hard to tell with you."

"I seem to have the opposite effect on most people."

"I'm not most people," Faith said. "But you've probably figured that out by now."

"Hn."

It seemed like he was focused on the road, but Faith got the impression that he just didn't want to tell her about his problems. That was fine. She had a feeling that she didn't want all the gory details. She really just wanted someone to listen to, to keep homesickness at bay.

"Tell me about Mom," she prompted, hoping he'd talk more if she offered him a topic. If it was up to him, he'd probably stick with silence, and Faith was too bored at the moment to be satisfied with his reticence.

He exhaled slowly, almost sighing, before asking, "What do you want to know?"

"Ummm," she said thoughtfully. "How did you meet her?"

"At the beach," he said hesitantly. "There isn't much to tell, Faith. You're out of luck if you were hoping for love at first sight."

"I wasn't, really," she said. "I don't think I believe in romance anyway—at least not the kind you see in movies. It doesn't seem pragmatic."

He glanced over at her again, but he didn't say anything else. Faith pouted; she wanted some attention. Back home, that statement would have started something. Duo or Hilde would have laughed and told her to give it another year or two. Maggie and the boys would have just teased. Faith sighed. _Here I am, actually on Earth for the first time in years—and I'm not at all happy about it. Dad doesn't understand me, and Mom's always working. I hate to say it, but I can't wait for this to be over._

It was pretty obvious that her dad wasn't going to talk without some serious pestering, and Faith was tired of trying to force him into conversation. The silence was oppressive, though, so she reached out and flicked the stereo on.

—_Love ,love , love, I want your love.  
>I want your psycho, your vertical stick<br>Want you in—_

"_Dad_!" Faith shut the music off again. "No. Seriously, just _no _This is terrible!"

"What?" he grumbled. "You're the one who turned it on. I don't listen to music."

"Sure, Dad," Faith teased. "I might believe you if that was just the radio. But it was a CD. Which somebody had to put in the stereo at some point. And since Mom doesn't drive, I can only come to one conclusion."

"It's not mine," her dad said firmly. He ejected the disc and showed it to Faith. It was a homemade mix CD labeled in black permanent marker: _Lucy's Car Music—Heero, if you leave even a fingerprint on this, I will kill you_.

Faith couldn't hold back her laughter. "Sorry, Dad," she managed between giggles. "I hope you don't get in trouble with Aunt Lucy now."

He shrugged. "We'll destroy the evidence when we get home," he said. "As long as that's been in there, she's probably forgotten about it."

"Sounds like a plan," Faith replied, still laughing. Her dad seemed to be in better spirits, too. His expression had softened slightly; he was almost smiling. "Have you ever put a CD in the microwave? Mark and Luke did it once. It was pretty cool."

"I think we're just going to throw this CD in the trash," he said. "Relena replaced all the kitchen appliances while I was gone; I don't think she'd be too happy if we ruined a new microwave."

"Probably not," Faith agreed. "Ours never worked quite right after that, and it smelled weird, too. Hilde wasn't too happy when she found out why."

"I can imagine," her dad muttered. Faith thought he was amused, in spite of his dark tone.

They came to an intersection; he clicked the turn signal and took a right.

"Where are we going now?" Faith asked. The house was in the opposite direction, and Faith couldn't imagine going anywhere else; they were both covered in sand, and Torstin was a mess, too.

"That red car's been behind us awhile, and I think I recognize it from somewhere. I want to see if they're following us."

"Oh. Great." _Just what we need_, she thought. _I know Trowa said people from the Red Fang are on Earth, but I didn't think they'd find me so fast._ "Is Mom going to be okay? If somebody's following us around, do you think they're watching her, too?"

"It's possible. Her security team is on alert, though, and they'll tell us if they see anything out of the ordinary."

Faith tried not to fidget as her dad drove the truck straight through one intersection and took a right at the second. Torstin stuck his head into the cab and Faith turned to pet him, using the motion as an excuse to look back at the car. There wasn't anything special about it—it was small and red, and there only seemed to be two people in it.

"Stop that," her dad complained. "If they are following us, I'd rather they didn't realize we're on to them."

"Sorry," Faith said, turning back around.

"Did you see anything?" he asked.

"Not really," Faith replied. "There were two people in the car, but I couldn't really see their faces. I think the passenger is a woman, but it's hard to tell. I don't think they're paying much attention to the road; they seem to be arguing, and they're awfully close to us."

A cat darted out into the road. Faith couldn't hold back a squeak—_Please don't hit it!_—and her dad slammed on the brakes. A second later, the truck shuddered as the red car plowed right into them. Torstin let out a yelp, but he didn't seem to be hurt.

"Are you okay?" her dad asked, parking the truck.

"Yeah," she replied. "It was just a little bump, that's all. How about you?"

"I'm fine. Stay here, Faith." He pulled a pistol out of the glove box and concealed it in his waistband. "If there's trouble, there's another gun under your seat. The truck has a manual transmission, which I doubt you can handle on your own, but I'll leave you the key just in case."

Faith had no intention of shooting anyone or driving her dad's truck, but she nodded agreeably to reassure him. He climbed out of the cab and closed the door firmly. Since he wasn't there to tell her what to do, Faith undid her seatbelt and turned around to watch through the back window.

* * *

><p>Damage to his truck notwithstanding, Heero was never so relieved to see Sally Po. She waved at him sheepishly from the passenger seat of the car—which, now that he thought about it, he recognized as <em>her<em> car—while the boy in the driver's seat looked mortified.

It was one thing to know that Len Chang was getting so old, and another thing to actually see him. The boy was about a year older than Faith, and it looked like he was already taller than Wufei. He'd been away at some boarding school in the colonies for quite a while, and it had been years since Heero had spent any time around him.

"Hey, Heero," Sally said through the open window. "I didn't know you were back from the colonies. How was your trip?"

"Fine," he replied evenly; apparently no one had given Sally the details about his absence. He didn't feel like enlightening her. "Are you two okay?"

"I think so," Sally said. Len nodded. "We were more surprised than anything else. It looks like Len needs to get in a little more practice before he takes his driving test, though."

"Yeah," Len mumbled. "I think it's going to have to wait until after graduation. There just isn't time this week."

Heero was surprised to hear that Len was graduating, too. Maybe kids just finished school earlier than they had when he was a teenager. That wasn't important, though. The sun was starting to set, and Relena would worry if he didn't get Faith back soon.

"Back it up a little bit," Heero said to Len. "Let's see how bad the damage is."

The truck was barely dinged. Sally's car was a mess, with cracked headlights and a smashed bumper, but it was nothing that insurance couldn't fix. Sally got out to survey the damage for herself, and Len reluctantly followed.

"_Len_?" Faith's tone was scornful, and she scowled at Len through the truck's back window. "I might have known."

Heero glared at Faith, but since she had, technically, stayed put, he didn't say anything.

"Faith." Len went scarlet to the roots of his hair. "Aww, crap."

"So _that's_ your chem lab partner?" Sally asked, smiling knowingly. "We hear all kinds of stories about Faith when Len's home for vacations. Don't we, Len?"

Somehow, it wasn't a surprise to learn that Len and Faith attended the same school. There weren't many exclusive boarding schools in the colonies. And Heero recalled Faith mentioning her lab partner briefly the day before.

Uh…" Len trailed off, still blushing. It didn't take much to put two and two together. Heero felt a little sorry for Len—but only a little. He'd only had his daughter back for a day and a half. It was way too early for boy issues.

"Get back in the truck and close the window," Heero told Faith. "You can talk some other time."

Faith rolled her eyes as she obeyed. Heero had no doubt that he'd catch it from her later, but at least she wasn't making things awkward now.

"We've got time tomorrow. Why not come over for a little while?" Sally suggested. "I'm sure Len would enjoy spending some time with someone his own age. Hanging out with just Wufei and me can't be much fun for a teenager."

"That's okay, Mom," Len said, a little too quickly. "_Really_. Are we almost finished here?"

"I think so," Sally replied. "We just need to report this to the insurance company, and we can do that when we get home. You can wait in the car if you want."

Len didn't need to be told twice. He got in the passenger seat and put the seatbelt on; clearly, he was about as comfortable with driving as Faith.

"Faith is your daughter, isn't she?" Sally asked quietly once Len was settled. "Is this why you've been gone so long? You finally found her after all this time?"

Heero looked away; Sally had been on call when Faith was born, and she probably remembered the terrorist attacks when Faith was small. Heero knew she was trustworthy, and it would be foolish to lie to her anyway. She had a way of digging out the truth.

"Officially, no," he said, just as quietly. "Faith lives with Duo now; it's safer for her there. She's just staying with us until we can clear up a minor incident on the colony. Relena and I haven't had a chance to figure out what to tell the media yet. We'd like to keep this as quiet as possible, though, to protect Faith's privacy."

"Of course," Sally said. "You know you can count on us. But seriously, bring her by sometime. I want a chance to meet the girl who has poor Len all tied up in knots."

"We'll see," Heero replied. "Call me if you need any information for your insurance company. Faith and I have to be going."

They parted ways then. Sally got back into her car and drove off, waving as they went around Heero's truck and drove through the intersection. Heero checked on Torstin one last time. The dog was fine, so Heero got back into the truck.

"Were they okay?" Faith asked, not waiting until he got settled.

"Yeah," he replied. "What did you do to that poor kid? He couldn't get back in the car fast enough."

Faith laughed. "Lenny? It's blackmail, plain and simple. I caught him kissing Marilou Brenner in the library. He _says_ Marilou kissed him, but he didn't seem to be protesting much at the time," she explained. "They'll be in serious trouble if anybody ever finds out. They might even be expelled. Students aren't allowed to date."

"Hn."

"I'm not really going to tell on them—especially since they broke up right after that—but it's a way to keep Lenny in line," Faith added. "He's gotten me in trouble way too many times by trying out unauthorized experiments when the teachers aren't paying attention. I think he deserves to be on pins and needles for a little while."

It looked like Heero wasn't going to have to worry about boys yet after all, if Len was really just afraid of getting in trouble. He couldn't help feeling relieved.

* * *

><p><em>I don't think she's ever going to stop<em>, Heero thought, watching Faith run around with the dog. She'd chattered with Relena all through dinner, and it looked like she was going to spend the rest of the evening chasing Torstin around in the yard. He decided to leave her to it; the floodlights were all on, and it was unlikely that anyone could snatch her out of the yard without one of Relena's guards noticing.

It was a good time to talk to Relena. They had some privacy, and they'd hear Faith when she finally came back inside. Heero headed up the stairs to her office and tapped on the door once before walking in.

"Are you busy?" he asked.

"I'm always busy," she replied, twisting around in her chair to look at him. "What is it?"

He had her attention. And he couldn't figure out where to start. Too much had happened recently, and he didn't want to say anything that would push Relena farther away.

"Faith's outside," he said lamely. "I just thought now would be a good time for us to talk."

"Oh. I think Duo's been too strict with her," Relena said, apparently thinking he wanted to talk about Faith. "Did you know he won't let her wear nail polish? Or cut her hair? Even her clothes—she can't have anything that she can't wear to school. I know it doesn't sound like much, but I'm afraid she's going to have problems later. In most careers, women are still expected to look a certain way, and Faith isn't going to have a clue."

"Hn." Heero didn't have anything to say to that. Girl stuff was Relena's department. Or possibly Lucy's department if Relena was indisposed. "You can take it up with Duo. He probably just doesn't know what's appropriate, and Hilde's been too sick to help."

"You're probably right," Relena agreed. "Still. We've been invited to a fundraiser at the history museum on Wednesday night. It's black tie. I'd like to take Faith; I think she'll enjoy it."

_She might, but you won't_, Heero thought. As far as he could tell, Relena still hadn't been exposed to Faith's grittier side. She seemed to save most of that for him. But he could imagine her saying something inappropriate in front of one of Relena's uptight political contacts, and it wasn't a pretty thought. It might be funny to watch, though, since he wouldn't be on the receiving end of her jabs.

"We can ask her about it later," he said. He hadn't come up to talk about Faith. But since they were on the subject, he decided to bring up Trowa's suggestion. "Have you thought about how we're going to introduce her? The paparazzi follow us everywhere. If we take her out in public, people are going to start asking questions."

"You think it's a bad idea to just say that she's our daughter. I guess you have a point—she'll never have any privacy if people know who she really is." Relena looked at him thoughtfully. "We agreed to be godparents to Duo's kids when Chris was born. So when you look at it that way, Faith is our godchild, too. She looks like you, but you and Duo are similar enough in appearance that people used to mistake you for brothers—saying that she's your niece will explain the resemblance. But I'd rather not bring that up unless it's absolutely necessary. I don't want to be caught lying so blatantly. Is that okay with you?"

"That's fine," Heero said. Relena had covered all of the necessary bases with only a moment's thought. Heero couldn't help a small grin.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied. If he told her the truth—that he was glad he'd married a woman who was smart as well as gorgeous—she'd probably throw something. Especially since she didn't seem so happy about being married to him. He glanced down at her hands, where her ring was still missing, and couldn't quite bring himself to ask her about it.

"Was everything okay while I was gone?" he asked awkwardly. He had to say something or leave and he wanted Relena to tell him, in her own words, what he'd heard from Lucy that morning.

She frowned. "What do you mean, Heero?"

"Just—things. The house. The dog. You." Bringing it up, or trying to get Relena to bring it up, was harder than he'd anticipated. Relena just had that effect on him—she looked at him with those clear, blue eyes, and he found himself completely tongue-tied.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," Relena said at last. She'd gone pale, though, and her shoulders visibly tensed. She squeezed her hands together, trying not to look for the wedding ring that she no longer wore.

Heero sighed. It was time to stop being so indirect. "Lucy and I were talking today, and she mentioned something," he said. "Relena—"

The phone rang, cutting off what Heero had been about to say. Relena let out the breath she'd been holding, and the color flooded back into her cheeks.

"Sorry," she said. "I have to take this."

He nodded and closed the door softly behind him as he left. _Damn._

* * *

><p>Torstin's bark jarred Heero awake. He glanced at his bedside clock—it was just after midnight, and, except for the dog, the house was quiet.<p>

Silently, Heero grabbed his gun from the nightstand and tucked it into his waistband. He went out into the hall and heard Torstin whining in Faith's room. Her door was slightly cracked, so he just pushed it open and switched the light on.

Faith was sitting upright in bed, breathing hard and staring into space. Torstin paced nervously; if there had been an intrusion, the dog would have been aggressive rather than anxious.

"Faith?"

She didn't respond. Her eyes were dilated and she didn't seem to see him at all. He went to the phone, glad for once that Relena had insisted on having one installed in almost every room in the house, and dialed Duo's number.

"Hello?"

It was Dak, looking tousled from sleep.

"Is Duo around?" Heero asked. Dak made a face.

"Can you wake the dead?" he asked. "Because I can't. It's two in the morning here, and Dad sleeps like a sack of bricks. What do you want?"

"Something's wrong with Faith," Heero explained. "She's acting strange, and she's unresponsive."

"Is she breathing?"

"Yeah." Heero could hear her still gasping, though she seemed to be calming down.

"She's fine. She's post-ictal, that's all," Dak said, blinking sleepily. "She just had a seizure. She might drink some water, but other than that, all you can do is let her go back to sleep on her own. She won't say much, but she might be able to answer simple questions. She'll be back to normal in the morning."

"Isn't her medication supposed to prevent this from happening?"

"She just started taking it. It's probably going to be a while before the doctors figure out the correct dosage and it builds up in her bloodstream well enough to really stop the seizures," Dak said. "In the meantime, all we can do is try to make sure she doesn't hurt herself. Usually her seizures aren't too bad—she just makes noise and thrashes around. Sometimes she sleepwalks, though, and that can be dangerous. She's fallen down the stairs twice now."

"Good to know," Heero said. Although it wasn't, really—it would be much better if Faith didn't have epilepsy at all. "Anything else?"

"Call back in the morning," Dak replied. "Or email. I might be able to think of something better when I'm awake."

Dak ended the call, and Heero went to check on Faith. Her breathing was back to normal, and she seemed to be watching him.

"Do you want some water?" he asked.

Faith shook her head. "No."

"Then go back to sleep," he said. "We're going to wake Relena if we keep making noise."

Faith curled up and closed her eyes. Heero pulled the sheets back over her and switched off the light on his way out.

* * *

><p>Heero was wide awake after that, and he knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep for a while. He wandered back into his room and checked his laptop. It had finished running background checks on Novak's contacts. The only connection, so far as he could tell, was that almost all of them were employees of Kiba Hydroponics.<p>

_Well_, Heero thought, _It's a start._

He'd run a more in-depth search of Novak's contacts later, when he was able to access Preventer's databases, and try to find their locations. He set up his laptop to run a new search and pull all the information it could find on Kiba Hydroponics. It found results almost immediately, and the company logo—a blood red wolf howling against a white background—was jarring.

_The Red Fang, _Heero thought. _It's unlikely that this could be a coincidence._

After Dak's unwelcoming reception, Heero thought it might be better not to call Trowa right away. He sent a brief email instead, closed up his laptop, and went to bed. Tomorrow, he could read over the reports about Kiba and decide what to do next.

* * *

><p>Notes: Sorry this is so late! Life has been kicking my ass lately, and it's probably not going to change anytime soon, lol. Thanks so much for all of the reviews, etc. It means the world to me!<p>

Additionally-don't hate me, Gaga fans! I love her, too, but it's sooo easy to make fun. I can't always resist. :D


	17. Chapter 17

After the way the last few days had gone, it was almost surreal to be sitting at Sally's kitchen table as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, drinking coffee and listening to Faith bicker with someone else for a change.

"It's too bad Relena couldn't make it," Sally said as she stirred cream into her coffee. "She's been working way too hard lately. Maybe she'll finally take a break now that she has you two around to distract her."

"Hn." It seemed unlikely to Heero. If Relena didn't feel like working, she wouldn't. She was avoiding him, plain and simple, and using work as an excuse. He didn't say anything, though. Too many people knew too much about his and Relena's personal problems. If Sally didn't know, Heero wasn't going to tell her.

"How is Faith?" Sally asked. "You must be glad to have her home again, even if it's just for a few days."

So far, at least, it had been more stressful than anything. Faith was nothing at all like Heero had been expecting. She was bright, blatantly honest, and utterly full of herself—and Heero had no idea how she'd gotten to be that way. And he had no one to blame but himself.

"You probably know more about her than I do," Heero admitted. "She and Len seem to know each other pretty well."

Faith and Len were in the other room, arguing over something. Heero was learning to tune them out; they were just kids being kids. He didn't have anything to worry about unless they got quiet. And even then, he wouldn't worry much—he didn't think Faith was interested in Len, and Len probably wouldn't make a move on a girl who would turn around and blackmail him. No, it was far more likely that one of them would kill the other.

Heero had his money on Faith. Len was older, taller, and a good thirty pounds heavier, but Faith was sneaky. She'd fight dirty.

"Len does tell us a little about her from time to time. She seems like quite the character," Sally said. "Some days she's on his very last nerve, and other days it's like he's half in love with her. It makes me glad I'm not a teenager anymore."

Heero didn't have anything to say to that. But then, his teenage years had been too fraught with peril for him to waste time on anything as frivolous as a romance. He hadn't even considered it until Relena—

He shook his head slightly. He didn't want to think about that day. Not now, when everything was so uncertain.

"Something wrong?" Sally asked.

"No," Heero said. But Sally knew him pretty well, and she shot him a questioning look over the rim of her mug.

The kids wandered back into the kitchen, giving Heero a reason to avoid offering Sally a more elaborate response.

"You're crazy, Faith," Len said. "That hunk of junk shuttle you built is never going to work."

"Shut up, Lenny," Faith replied. "You've never even seen it. It already works. Dak and I have done remote tests. The thermal shielding is on order. It should be in any day now, and we can start manned flights once it's installed."

Len rolled his eyes and turned to Heero. "You really ought to stop her," he said. "She's going to kill herself with this project. And probably Dak, too."

Heero glanced over at Faith. "Don't do anything stupid," he said. "If you're planning on killing yourself, leave Dak out of it."

He'd meant it lightly, as a joke, but it didn't come out right. Sally kicked him under the table, presumably because Relena wasn't there to do it herself. Faith pulled out a chair and glowered at him as she sat down.

"Jeez, Dad. It's good to see you're so concerned about _my_ safety," she muttered. "I'll be sure to let Dak know how you feel, though."

"You're talking about that half-finished custom shuttle Duo had in his dock, right?" he asked. Faith nodded. "It looked okay to me. But if you're as bad at piloting as you are at driving, you probably shouldn't be carrying any passengers."

Len snickered, but Heero was serious that time. If Faith was as bad at piloting as she was at driving, she should stick with simulations and stay out of real spacecraft altogether. But Heero wasn't going to say that, at least not in front of Sally. Knowing Sally, she'd kick him harder next time.

"I was good enough to pass the test and get my pilot's license," Faith countered. "Duo even lets me fly salvage missions for him between semesters. So there."

If Duo thought she was up for it, Heero wouldn't argue any more. Duo's piloting skills were better than average—if pressed, Heero might even grudgingly admit that Duo's skills were better than his. If Duo was okay with it—and apparently he was since he'd invested the time and effort in getting Faith her license three years early—then Heero was okay with it, too.

"The things you kids get up to these days," Sally murmured, staring into her coffee. "It makes me glad we've had such a long-lasting peace. Back during the war, kids as smart as you two would have been recruited already."

"As an engineer or a medic, maybe," Faith said. "I've heard too many stories from Duo and Trowa. I don't believe in violence as a means to an end. It's one thing to defend myself. It's something else entirely to see people die over something as foolish as political influence or money."

Len nodded. Heero didn't say anything. Faith was right in a way—it was foolish to fight over politics or commodities—but he had fought for freedom, which was something else entirely. Much like Relena at that age, Faith was too young, and possibly too idealistic, to understand. And Heero wasn't in the mood for a debate.

"So," he said, changing the subject. "What are you two planning on doing after graduation?"

"Med school," Len replied. "It was that or the Preventers and, unlike Dad, I don't get a rush out of dodging bullets."

Len really didn't seem the type to go out for the Preventers, but Heero didn't want to say it out loud and risk hurting the boy's feelings. There was no shame in being a doctor.

"I'm going to engineering school," Faith said, grinning. "I have a full scholarship to the European Technological Institute. Of course, I'm going to lose it if I don't go this fall. And Duo doesn't want me to go."

"Why?" Len asked. "My dad would be ecstatic if I got a full scholarship anywhere. And ETI is one of the best schools there is."

"Someone needs to be around to take care of Hilde, and Duo doesn't want me staying on Earth by myself. He thinks I'm reckless," Faith explained. "I'll get there, even if I have to wait until I'm eighteen and pay for it myself. I'm studying all I can now, and I strip every interesting machine that comes into the salvage yard. I wish I could get my hands on some old mobile suits. It's a shame people were so diligent in destroying them right after the wars ended."

That gave everyone pause. Len and Sally both stared. Heero tried to keep his expression neutral. In the years since the wars, talk of mobile suits had become almost taboo.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully. The question was on everybody's lips; someone might as well ask. "You're not planning on building weapons, are you? You just said you don't believe in violence, but you want to learn about some of the most destructive machines people have ever created?"

"What?" The incredulous look Faith shot him was relieving. "It's not like that. Back during the war, mobile suits were the height of technology. Most of that is lost to us now, and it's a real shame. There's so much that might be useful in other applications. High-powered lasers, for example, can just as easily be used for medical and commercial purposes. Frankly, the suits themselves could have been repurposed for use in the Mars terraformation project, or for resource mining in space. It would have been a way for humanity to create something good out of a not-so-great part of history."

"You're going to get yourself in trouble if you go around talking like that, Fay," Len said. "But I think you're right. We had a tremendous resource there, and we threw it away."

It was a blind, naïve statement; Len was too young to have seen any real mobile suit battles. He had no idea what he was talking about. Heero couldn't quite disagree with Faith—the technology could have been used elsewhere—but it could have fallen into the wrong hands just as easily. It was a risk, one that humans hadn't been prepared to handle at the time. But now—_Things might be different now_, Heero thought.

"You do make a good argument, Faith," Sally said at last, slowly. Unlike Len, she'd seen firsthand the damage that someone could cause with a mobile suit. If Sally was convinced, too, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. "The Preventers used to have a few old suits around, in case of emergencies. I can ask Wufei if—"

"They're gone," Heero interrupted. Those old space Leos were garbage anyway. If Faith wanted a mobile suit to dismantle, she needed something decent. Something that might actually teach her a thing or two. "The press found out about them. Une had them destroyed to prevent a public outcry."

Faith looked disappointed, but the conversation had given Heero an idea. _We'll see_, he thought, checking his watch. It was getting late, and Relena wanted them home for dinner. He pushed his chair back.

"We'd better go," he said slowly. "Relena's having some people over for dinner; she said she wants us home early to help out. It was good seeing you again, Sally. Len."

"Anytime, Heero," Sally replied, smiling. "We have to be getting ready to go anyway. Len's my intern this week—it's an extra credit project for school—and we have a graveyard tonight, don't we, Len?"

Faith huffed. "You got an internship, Len? Crap. Now I _have_ to finish the shuttle before graduation, or you might make valedictorian after all."

Len laughed. "What do you mean _might_?" he asked smugly. "I'm older, smarter, and better prepared. I'll be the one giving that speech at graduation. You'll see."

"Don't count on it, Lenny!" Faith snapped, eyes blazing as she got up from the table. "You won't beat me that easily."

"Faith," Heero warned. "Don't start."

She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, but at least she was quiet. The kids' rivalry was amusing to a point, but Heero didn't think it was appropriate for Faith to raise her voice in someone else's house. Even if Sally did seem to think it was funny. Not for the first time, he wished Relena had felt like coming—she was better at diffusing situations like these.

"Come on," he said, leading Faith toward the door. "Thanks for the coffee, Sally."

"You're welcome, Heero," Sally replied, grinning. "Hey. We're having a going away party for Len on Thursday. You guys should come. It's at that Japanese restaurant over on Fourth Street."

"We'll see," Heero said. "I should probably talk to Relena about it first."

"Sure," Sally agreed. "It was nice meeting you, Faith."

"It was nice to meet you, too," Faith said, smiling politely at Sally. But then she shot Len another dirty look, and Heero dragged her out the door before she could start anything else.

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe you just blurted it out like that," Relena said. She wiped her streaming eyes again and hoped Gio wouldn't look up from the game he was watching in the other room.<p>

"I'm sorry," Lucy said again, glancing at her son through the open door. "I've never seen Heero look so defeated. It just—happened. I can't believe you haven't told him yourself. It's his right to know."

"It's his right to know?" Relena repeated, letting anger get the better of her because it was good, so good, to feel something other than depression. "Really? Well. Have you talked Milliardo recently? Because I think it's _his_ right to know that he has a five-year-old son."

Lucy looked away, ashamed, and Relena instantly felt guilty for hurting one of her dearest friends. Taking potshots at one another wasn't going to solve anything for either of them.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," she murmured. "That was unnecessary."

"It's the truth, though, isn't it?" Lucy asked. "I should call Zechs. I've been telling myself that ever since Gio was born. I just—don't know what to say."

_And that_, Relena thought, _is exactly my problem. _She took a gulp of her tea and set her cup back down with a gentle chink. Heero wasn't the type to lay blame or get angry over nothing. But this wasn't nothing. This was their child, and she'd kept it from him. But—Lucy was right. He did have a right to know, and it was cowardly to keep it from him.

"I'll cut you a deal," she said. "I'll tell Heero if you call Milliardo. We'll never be able to move forward if we keep worrying about things that we can't go back and change."

Lucy nodded, though she looked apprehensive. Relena couldn't blame her—her brother was rather intimidating when he wanted to be. _He's such an ass_, she thought. _Burning bridges and pushing away the people who only want to love him is no way for Milliardo to atone for his actions during the war._

"He might not even want to talk to me," Lucy said. "It's been so long. And I just walked out without saying anything, or even leaving a note. I haven't contacted him at all since then."

"Oh, he'll talk," Relena replied. "You forget—I'm the one who authorizes the funding for the Mars project. If it comes down to it, I can make life very difficult for my brother."

That, at least, was enough to get a weak chuckle out of Lucy. Relena glanced over her shoulder and check on Gio again. He was still oblivious, deeply focused on a televised soccer match. It was the only thing they'd found that would keep him quiet and still for any amount of time. Torstin lay nearby, watching over him. He'd always been fond of children.

"Were you serious about divorcing Heero?" Lucy asked quietly. "He told me yesterday. Relena, I think you should give it some time. Talk to him. Get a counselor if you have to. Take it from someone who knows—you're lucky to have such a devoted partner."

"I know," Relena whispered. "I know I'm lucky, and I know how much he loves me. I don't want to divorce him. But Lucy, I want to have a family—a real family—and it just can't happen with Heero. People are targeting Faith now just because she's his daughter. I can't bring another child into this situation. And I can't wait forever. God, Lucy, I'm about to turn thirty-five! It might already be too late. I feel horrible and selfish for wanting this, but Lucy—"

Relena couldn't finish. She pressed her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to erupt. She didn't want to upset Gio. Torstin nudged her gently, and she looked down to see him standing proudly beside her with another box of tissues in his mouth. She took it and patted his head in lieu of thanks.

"That dog trains himself, doesn't he?" Lucy asked, sounding amused in spite of the situation. Torstin wagged his tail, as if he knew Lucy was talking about him, and trotted off, presumably to sit with Gio again. Relena wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and didn't say anything at all when Lucy walked around the table and hugged her tightly.

"Talk to Heero," Lucy said again. "I think you'll be surprised by what he has to say."

* * *

><p>Faith sat at her desk and waited for her tablet to finish downloading a new album. Her mom was in her office, on the phone with some politician friend, Eric Somebody-or-Other. Her dad was in his room, working, and had politely asked her to let him work in peace.<p>

She could hardly refuse, since he'd been so nice about asking.

But Faith hated being at loose ends. So she'd answered all of her emails from home, and let her family know that she was okay, that her dad wasn't crazy or homeless, and that she was really coming back as soon as she could.

_Earth is beautiful_, she wrote, deciding to answer everyone's big question in one mass email. _And I've always wanted a chance to know my parents. But now that I've come here, and met them, I know that home is washing dishes with Hilde, and hunting for scrap with Duo. It's boys-against-girls basketball in the alley, chocolate chip cookies with Maggie, and singing Lexi to sleep. I haven't gone soft or anything, but the thought of losing you guys, of never being able to go back home again, makes me realize how much I've taken you all for granted. Don't worry about me. I'll see you soon. I know it. _

Faith sent the message and sat back with a sigh. Her download still hadn't finished, and she knew the tablet would run faster if she left it alone and let it do its thing. She hated waiting, though, so she reached into her school bag and dug out the book Duo had given her. She'd meant to get it out sooner, but there hadn't been time.

Plus, it would be really weird if one of her parents walked in and saw her with a copy of a book written for expecting couples. Especially since she wasn't really planning on reading it. There were some things that Faith just didn't want to know.

But the photo that Duo had tucked between the pages—that had been driving her nuts for days. She hadn't looked at it when he'd given it to her before, and curiosity was eating her up.

The book flopped open to the right page, where the picture was still facedown, just as she'd left it. Faith pulled it out and put it, still upside down, on her desk.

_If this is a naked baby photo, it's going down Mom's shredder_, she thought. _No way am I leaving a naked picture of me anyplace where any of my brothers might find it and one day use it against me._

She closed her eyes and flipped the photo over. _One, two, three…now._

"Oh, _Dad_," she murmured, knowing there was no one close enough to hear her talking to herself. "Aww, crap. This cutesy stuff always makes me want to cry."

Somehow, Faith couldn't be mad at her dad anymore. She took the picture and tiptoed out into the hall. She eased his door open, intending to piss him off and then surprise him with the photo—just to see the look on his face when she gave it to him.

_Oh, Dad_, she thought, seeing him asleep at his desk. His laptop was open, but he'd been out long enough for it to go into hibernate mode. _I think I'd better not bother him tonight. It's waited this long; it can wait another day or two._

* * *

><p>Notes: This one was a little tame for me, but it seems suitable for the lazy Sunday afternoon that it was. Anyway. A lot of this will make sense later. Let me know if you spot any errors-I was in a hurry to upload this because I'm not sure when I'm going to get the next chapter done. My friend is getting married this weekend, and it's going to be busy!<p>

Credit goes to Izreina Maxwell for the "could hardly refuse" bit. I couldn't resist. Also-go read her story! It's good. :D

As always, thanks to everyone for all of the reviews, favorites, adds, etc. I try to respond to each review, but I think I sometimes miss one or two.


	18. Chapter 18

"Holy crap, Dad. I think we've just found the depressingest place on Earth."

For once, Faith wasn't being facetious. Her dad's office was pitch dark with the shades drawn, and so cluttered that Faith tripped over the trash can and a dead plant before he managed to switch the light on. It was one of those overbright fluorescent things, and it hummed and flickered and made the whole place look even dirtier than it actually was.

"You're only saying that because you haven't seen the cubicles downstairs."

_Bullshit_, Faith thought, but she didn't say it out loud. If there was anything that got her dad's tighty whities in a twist, it was foul language. And since he'd been nice enough to offer her an internship to get even with Len, the least she could do was try and stay off his last nerve for an hour or two.

"This office is a pigsty, Dad. And the pictures…" Faith trailed off. There were frames and frames of old photos, all over the walls. Most of them were her own baby pictures, but there were a few photos of her mom and Gio and Lucy. Frankly, it was one of the saddest things she'd ever seen—a sign that, on some level, her dad just hadn't been able to let go. It was also a montage of the most embarrassing moments of her life on display for pretty much anyone to see."Never, ever let Chris and Dak see this place, Dad. Ever."

He shot her a sidelong glance. "Fine," he agreed. "But if you bother anyone—and I do mean anyone—in this building, I will email every single one of these pictures to Dak. And if you cause any problems, I'll go through the boxes at home and send him the really embarrassing ones."

Faith paled. He wasn't bluffing. She didn't want to know what the really embarrassing ones were. The pictures here were bad enough. Faith glanced around one last time, thoroughly creeped out, before her eyes settled on an almost-familiar face.

"Is that—_Lenny?_ What in the world was I doing with _Lenny_?"

"You don't know? I thought you remembered everything," her dad said, coming up behind her to check out the photo in question.

"Not _everything_ everything," Faith replied. "My memory seems to be tied to dates—I can't remember anything from before I knew how to use a calendar. I was two and a half, and it was three days before Christmas. It was a Tuesday."

Her dad shot her an odd look, which she chose to ignore. She was far more interested in the picture on the wall, in the little girl in the pink dress who seemed to be punching a little boy in shorts and a blue t-shirt.

"That was your first birthday party," her dad said, smiling faintly at the memory. "Duo and Hilde had moved back to the colonies, and Sally and Wufei were the only other people we knew who had a kid about your age. You two got along pretty well back then."

Faith made a face at her dad. "Pretty well?" she asked. "It looks like I've got my fist crammed down his throat, Dad. Are you sure I wasn't trying to kill him?"

"You were feeding him cake."

"Holy crap," Faith muttered, feeling a blush creep across her cheeks. "Len isn't allowed in here either. I don't want him seeing this and getting any ideas."

"What makes you think he hasn't seen it? Sally and Wufei each have a copy."

Faith suppressed a groan. With any luck, Len hadn't made the connection between her teenage self and the toddler in the photo.

But she wasn't going to hold her breath. Her luck was running dry lately.

"I have to get to work," her dad said, heading toward the door. "You stay here."

"What do you want me to do?" Faith asked. "I don't think I can call this an internship if I'm just sitting around waiting for you to come back."

"You can clean," he suggested. "Interns always get the jobs no one else wants to do. Just don't throw anything away."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Dad?" She picked up a half-full cup of coffee that she knew had been sitting on his desk for at least six weeks. "You _want_ to keep thisaround? And what about the dead plant?"

He made an exasperated noise. "Don't throw anything important away," he said, walking out and letting the door close behind him. He looked back in long enough to add, "The pictures are important, Faith. They'd better all be here when you're done."

"The pictures are creepy," Faith muttered once she was sure he was gone. "I don't mind that you have them, but they really don't belong in your office."

Faith dropped the coffee cup into the trash and looked at the mess, wondering where to start. The pictures had to stay, but that didn't mean they had to stay on the walls. She glanced around, considering, and decided to start with his desk. It was safe—she hoped—and she could decide what to do with the photos while she worked.

* * *

><p>Commander Une was waiting when Heero walked into her office. She had that look on her face, the look of a hardened soldier, one that meant business.<p>

"I've been waiting for you to report in, Zero," she said.

It was never good when she used codenames. But Heero hadn't expected her to be pleased with him. He'd taken an unauthorized leave of absence, abandoning several high profile cases, and then he'd drawn Trowa into a situation that was quickly becoming a nightmare.

Any other agent would have been out of a job.

"Barton's reports were sufficient," he replied blandly. Une narrowed her eyes.

"You know that isn't how we do things here," she said. "Every agent reports in from the field. For every incident. If you were in charge, you'd want the same thing."

Heero didn't disagree—sometimes one person's observations turned up facts that might have otherwise been overlooked. In order to prevent information from being passed over, every agent needed to report. Heero just didn't see a reason to fill out the papers until he had all the necessary data. There were reasons Heero wasn't in charge—and that was one of them. He had no desire to spend his days going over paperwork behind a desk and giving all the choice assignments to others.

Une, sensing his reluctance, sighed. "Tell me everything now, so I can see how it ties in with Barton's missives. I want your written report by the end of the day, though."

Heero nodded. "Where should I start?"

"At the beginning," Une said coldly. "I want to know why you left."

"Part of that is personal, and it won't be included on any written report," Heero replied, silently daring Une to object. When she didn't, he continued, "About six weeks ago, I started receiving anonymous emails, sent from public terminals, that contained pictures of my daughter. As I received more pictures, I noticed that the same two men were in the background of almost every photo."

He hadn't mentioned that to anyone, not even Relena. It could have easily been nothing, and he hadn't wanted to frighten her. At the time, he'd assumed the photos were from Duo—an anonymous request for backup. That seemed unlikely now, but he still wondered who might have taken the snapshots.

"Around that time, Relena asked me to leave. So I left. I went straight to the colony to see what was going on. I disguised myself as a transient to prevent the press from finding me and accidentally tipping off my suspects, and started following them around. From the first day, it was clear that they were watching Faith."

Commander Une scowled. As a matter of course, she'd been informed of Faith's true whereabouts. The information was strictly classified, but it was considered important to national security—the terrorists who targeted her didn't care who got in their way. Innocent bystanders could be harmed.

"I was under the impression that Barton was investigating the bombings on the colony," she said. "I wasn't aware that these incidents were tied into your daughter's presence there."

Heero didn't know why Trowa hadn't included that in his report, and he didn't try to speculate. He just kept telling the story as he knew it.

"At the time, I didn't know about the bombs," Heero said. "That came later. When I first went to space, I was only there to observe the men who seemed to be after Faith."

"You say that you could tell they were after her from the start. Yet you didn't contact us for assistance," Une murmured. "Why?"

It was almost as bad as an interrogation. The barrage of questions was giving Heero a headache. But he answered them honestly and diligently—it was the only way he could continue to use Preventer resources to eliminate the threat to Faith.

"I wanted to be sure they knew exactly who they were following," he explained. "If they were just stalkers after an ordinary citizen, they wouldn't fall under Preventer jurisdiction. Faith has had this problem before. The last stalker died in jail before he could be questioned."

"You could reveal her identity. Then we could consider it a political assault and step in."

"No," Heero said. "Faith doesn't want that. She enjoys being a private citizen, and she's made it clear that she wants to return to the colony as soon as possible."

"She's a child," Une argued. "Her wishes shouldn't matter."

"When I was her age, I was living on my own and fighting in a war," he replied. "I know what a determined fifteen year old is capable of doing. And after all that I've done to Faith, I don't think I have the right to tell her how to live."

Lady Une made a disgruntled noise, but she didn't argue any more. It was just as well. Heero might have walked out if she had. He was here to report, not to discuss parenting.

"I was compromised before I could figure out what these men wanted with Faith. Trowa Barton contacted me and asked for a favor. I knew what he was trying to do, and I knew it could blow my cover, but I went along with it."

"What did Barton want?" Une asked.

"He wanted me to go and see Faith," Heero said. "He and Duo were trying to push us back together. They thought I'd come to the colony because of the problems Relena and I have been having. And I went. I just—wanted to see her face to face. I didn't think she would know me. She was only two when Relena and I left her with Duo."

Lady Une looked contemplative at that.

"She recognized you?" Une asked.

Heero nodded. "She called me a deadbeat and climbed out a window to get away. One of her stalkers caught up to her before I could. She hit him over the head and kept running. He shot himself when he came to."

"That happened Thursday night, right?" she asked. Heero nodded. "It was in Barton's incident report. Alan Novak, correct?"

"Right," Heero said. "I left him and stayed after Faith in case the other stalker was still around. I caught up with Faith and escorted her back to Duo's house."

Heero decided to leave out the part where he combed through Novak's hotel room. It had been an unauthorized search and, as such, none of the evidence obtained could be used to prosecute any of Novak's associates. Not that Heero had found a whole lot of useful information in Novak's room.

"I still don't see how this ties in with the bombings," Une said.

Heero resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Novak worked for a company called Kiba Hydroponics," Heero said. "The next day, some of his coworkers used fertilizer to create a car bomb. That was the first incident. Then, a few hours later, those same coworkers abducted Faith. She recognized them as Kiba employees and was able to get a message to me. The men had a second fertilizer bomb hidden in the spaceport, and they were planning to detonate it to cover their escape."

"That's the one that was found and disarmed, correct?" Une asked. Heero nodded.

"Trowa confronted the suspects after I got Faith off the colony. Several of them got away on their own shuttle, which eventually crashed on Earth, somewhere in North Africa. We don't know where they are now. Of the remaining suspects on the colony, one survived."

"No," Une said. "He didn't. He died earlier this morning. It's going to be a while before we get the toxicology reports back, but we have reason to believe the cause of death was cyanide poisoning. Barton was off-duty when the suspect's attorney arrived. He intimidated our officers into giving him direct access to the prisoner. A few hours later, the suspect was dead. And the attorney is missing."

That was it, then. Another dead man, another dead end. Their only hope was to find the remaining Red Fang members on Earth, and so far none of them had surfaced. Kiba itself seemed clean so far—it had issued a statement to the press that the employees in question hadn't been acting in the interests of the company. Heero wasn't ready to take the corporation off his suspect list, but so far there was no solid proof that they were actually involved in the incident. It could have just been a way for some desperate men to gain easy access to explosives.

"How's that situation being handled?" Heero asked. "I haven't heard any of this from Trowa."

"Preventer Blackthorn, who was in charge of that branch, has been relieved of his duties," Une said, as if that made everything better. "Barton's handling it temporarily, until we can find a suitable replacement."

"Hn."

Trowa wasn't going to be happy about that. He hated being tied down. He was probably searching for a replacement himself—it was the only thing Heero could think of that would keep Trowa from calling.

"What's the situation with the girl?" Une asked. Heero shrugged.

"Nothing has happened since the incident at the spaceport," he said. "She wants to go back to the colony as soon as possible."

If all of the suspects in space were dead, it was probably safe for her to return already. Surveillance would have to be established, but that wouldn't be difficult.

"I won't hear of it," Une said. "As long as there are terrorists after her, Faith's very presence is a danger to the colony. You know how delicate those structures are. Even a single explosion can be enough to cause depressurization. The girl stays here."

Heero wondered if he could convince Commander Une to break that particular bit of bad news to Faith. He couldn't complain—he wanted Faith to stay—but he knew it wasn't what Faith wanted.

"I'm going to assume that she's in a secure location now," Une continued.

"She's in my office," Heero replied. "She seemed to think it needed cleaning."

It wasn't _that_ bad. Well. Except for that coffee cup. And a few papers that needed filing. And about six weeks' worth of dust—okay. Maybe it was that bad. But it probably wasn't enough to keep Faith busy for long.

"I'm not sure this is an appropriate environment for a teenager, but at least you're keeping her out of everyone's hair," Une said, sighing. "I'm assigning Chang to this case. Fill him in, and get that written report to me as soon as possible. You're dismissed."

* * *

><p>Faith's tablet pinged while she was cleaning. She glanced at it and smiled when she saw the IM from her brother.<p>

**Zakdak: The rest of the shuttle parts are in. What should I do?**

**Faithless: Install them! I'd like to be ready for test flights asap. **

**Zakdak: Gotcha. Later, Fay.**

_Ahh, that's fantastic!_ Faith thought as she wiped a layer of dust off her dad's desk and put the stack of papers back where she'd found them. _I am so going to kick Len's ass and be valedictorian. I've got the shuttle, and I've got the internship. But seriously—cleaning? This sucks._

It hadn't taken Faith all that long to clean up her dad's desk. There were papers that still needed filing, but most of them looked important and she didn't want to accidentally misplace them. She found some cleaning supplies in the bottom desk drawer and began wiping dust off the frames and frames of pictures with a damp paper towel.

"I still can't believe he has all of these here," she muttered as she worked. "It's _so_ unprofessional. One or two pictures? Fine. But—I'm not even going to count all of these. Ugh. It's too much!"

She heard a thump from out in the hall and stopped grumbling. _I hope no one heard that_, she thought, and grimaced when someone knocked on the door.

"Can I help you with something?" Faith asked, peering out at the custodian. He was a swarthy middle-aged fellow dressed in khakis and a red polo. The cleaning cart was down the hall, but the custodian wasn't empty-handed.

"I'm just here to clean the windows," he replied, holding out a bottle of blue liquid and a squeegee for Faith to inspect. She shrugged and let him in. She'd opened the shades and decided to let the sunshine in instead of rely on that horrible fluorescent light. The windows hadn't looked bad, so Faith assumed that someone had been in to clean them. It was probably okay.

Faith turned her back on the man and went back to dusting pictures.

"It looks like somebody's a shutterbug," the man said as he worked. Faith shrugged.

"I guess," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"It isn't hard when you have little kids around," he continued. "They're always doing something funny. My sister's kids were like that. They'll always be like that, at least up here."

He tapped the side of his head. Faith tried to fake a smile. The longer he talked, the more uncomfortable she got. He had what Maggie liked to call The Crazy Eyes.

"Happy memories are a blessing," Faith said absently, moving on to another picture frame.

His expression hardened. "Do you hear that?" he asked, apparently speaking to the air. "A blessing. Do you want to know what happened to my sister's kids? My little niece and nephew?"

He advanced on Faith; she retreated and bumped straight into her dad's desk. The custodian was blocking the path to the door. Faith perched on the edge of her dad's chair and tried to act nonchalant. There was a gun in the top left drawer. It wasn't loaded—she'd checked while she was cleaning—but she supposed she could pistol-whip him if he tried anything.

"What happened?" she asked. He seemed to be waiting for her to respond.

"I'll tell you," he replied. He stood and walked slowly around the room, looking at the pictures. Faith stood, too, leaving the gun in the desk drawer where it belonged, and made her way to the wall. She mirrored his steps, going left when he went right, right when he went left, trying to casually work her way toward the door.

She was nearly there when he pulled the revolver from his waistband and fired five shots into her parents' wedding photo. She screamed. She couldn't help it.

"Zero-one happened," he said. "They were onboard the Libra—all of them—and Zero-one and his gundam buddies killed them all. And _you_. You're Zero-one's daughter. I see it in your eyes."

"You're with the Red Fang," Faith whispered. He smiled.

"That's right," he said. "You're coming with me, Faith Yuy."

"No—I'm Faith Maxwell," Faith said, falling back on the lie her parents had given her at breakfast, trying to buy herself some time. Someone, somewhere, had heard those gunshots. "You guys have the wrong girl. Heero Yuy is my uncle."

"What? Christ. Did you copy that?" the man asked. "This kid is Yuy's niece! You sent me after the wrong girl."

_He's on a headset_, Faith realized. _Somebody else is calling the shots, and Mr. Crazy Eyes is just here to freak my dad out._

There was no way the man would escape Preventer Headquarters with her. The place was crawling with agents and there were cameras all over the place. This guy was a warning—the Red Fang was letting her dad know that they had found her again.

"I copy," the man said, speaking to his superior. His eyes flicked up to meet Faith's. "If you aren't Yuy's daughter, then you'll make a good example."

He aimed the gun at her with a shaking hand. Faith heard the click as he pulled the hammer back and chambered his last round. _Oh, God_, she thought, as she tensed, frozen to the spot. She was trapped in the open, too far from the door to run for safety, and too far from the desk to hide behind it. There was no place to run.

* * *

><p>Notes: I didn't think I'd manage another chapter this week, but it looks like I was wrong. I seem to work well under pressure. I'm not really happy with the middle scene, though-it's dry, for one, and I'm afraid I'm missing details, for two, so let me know if you spot any errors or have any suggestions. I'm probably going to leave it for now, and tackle it when I sit down and rewrite the whole story, but I'd like to hear your thoughts. I can't complain much about the ending, though. :D<p>

As always, I want to thank everyone for the reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. It's incredibly encouraging. :D


	19. Chapter 19

The door burst open, and everything was a blur. In the space of a blink, Faith heard the gunshot, and felt the impact of something much heavier than a bullet. She crashed to the floor, trapped under some immense weight, and the only thing that kept her from panicking was the familiar smell of aftershave and gun oil.

"Dad," she grumbled, opening her eyes to meet her dad's glare. "Get _off _of me."

"Shush," he replied. He sat up and gave her some breathing space, but he kept a hand on her shoulder, pinning her to the floor. He'd positioned himself so she couldn't see the rest of the room, but she heard other people moving around. "Wufei, are we clear?"

"We're clear. The son of a bitch shot himself."

Her dad didn't blink; the news didn't seem to surprise him. He just looked—tired. Which, Faith thought, was perfectly reasonable since he'd fallen asleep at his desk the night before. She patted his hand reassuringly, and he gave her a fleeting smile.

"You okay?" he asked. She nodded. "All right. Wufei—"

"I've got it," came the reply. "Get her out of here, and don't let her see this. The last thing I need is some kid throwing up all over my crime scene."

Faith scowled although, since she couldn't see Wufei, he probably couldn't see the death glare she was sending his way. It didn't matter. As far as dirty looks went, sometimes it was the thought that counted.

"Don't mind him," her dad said as he helped her to her feet. "He's afraid if he doesn't say something harsh every once in a while, his subordinates might start thinking he's a decent guy."

"You're getting to be as bad as Maxwell, making jokes when there's a dead man on your office floor," Wufei muttered.

Faith let her dad lead her out of the room. He kept one arm around her shoulders and held her close, blocking her from seeing the worst of it. He couldn't hide everything, though. There was blood spattered on the wall, the carpet, everywhere; Faith felt her stomach heave and looked down at her shoes. She really didn't want to throw up. Not when there was a chance that word of it would get back to Len.

They stopped at the threshold. Faith looked up to see a half-dozen people standing around in the hall. None of them could quite look at her dad, but they didn't seem to be interested in getting out of the way, either.

"I suggest you all leave," her dad said, his voice dangerously calm. "Unless you want to help scrape that guy's brains off my wall."

Faith shuddered—she hadn't seen _that_—and he tightened his grip on her shoulders; it was probably as close as he'd get to hugging her in front of a crowd. The other Preventers parted so they could walk past.

"Sarah," her dad said as they left, "I need copies of the witness statement forms. Give them to Wufei and tell him we'll be next door."

Next door was a corner office that had been converted into a break room. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. The smell of coffee and donuts brought a different kind of rumble to Faith's stomach. _Really?_ she thought, a little peeved at herself. _I don't believe this_.

"Shock does funny things to people," her dad said. "You might feel better if you eat something."

"I'd rather not, just now," Faith replied. She was still afraid she might be sick, and that just wasn't going to happen. She glanced around and saw holes in the wall where the gunman had fired at the picture on her dad's wall. There was no blood on the floor, though, and nothing to indicate that anyone in the room had been injured. That, at least, was a relief.

"Where were you?" she asked. She wasn't blaming him for not being there. She was just curious. All things considered, Faith thought his timing had been right on the mark.

"Reporting to Commander Une," he said shortly. "Discussing your case."

From his closed-off expression, Faith gathered that it hadn't been a pleasant chat. It was probably bad news. Particularly since a Red Fang member had managed to get himself into Preventer's Earth headquarters.

"Was any of it good?" she asked, talking for the sake of talking. She didn't want to listen to the crew working out in the hall.

"No," he replied. "The suspects that crashed on Earth are still at large. The one Trowa caught is dead, and the man who poisoned him is missing."

He cut off abruptly. Faith pulled away to look at his face. He met her eyes, and she could tell that there was more.

"What else is there?" she asked. "Tell me."

"Now doesn't seem like a good time," he said. "I think you've been through enough for one day."

"Now might be the only time we have," she replied. "It looks like they're getting desperate. Next thing you know, they'll be setting off car bombs in the parking garage."

He hesitated, and Faith watched him struggle with some inner conflict for a moment before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I wanted to talk to Duo before I told you," he said at last. "Until we stop these terrorists, you can't go back to the colony. It's Commander Une's order, and in your case, her word is as good as the law. It isn't just a matter of your personal safety; your presence is a risk to the everyone on the colony, Faith."

He was right. Now wasn't a good time. Faith schooled her features to vacancy, just as Duo had taught her, and tried to bury her distress. She wouldn't cry here.

Faith shrugged out of her dad's hold and went to look out the window. They were up high, and the sight of cars moving on the street below gave her a horrible case of vertigo. She stumbled to a nearby couch and sat down. The vertigo didn't pass. If anything, it got worse. Shivers ran up and down her spine, all the way to her fingers and toes.

"Faith."

Faith looked at her dad; her vision swam, but she could see that he was worried.

"Your eyes—" he started.

"Are dilated. I know," she replied. At least she could still talk. Still reason. "It's an aura. A sign that I'm probably going to have a seizure later. I'll be fine in a minute."

He sat beside her, close enough that she could reach him if she wanted, but far enough away that she had sufficient breathing space, and waited.

"Wufei will be back in a minute to take your statement," he said. "I can't do it—it's an ethics violation since we're related."

Faith nodded. The aura was passing quickly, but she still wasn't back to normal. She wasn't going to say anything unless she absolutely had to.

"We knew about the security breach," he continued. "Wufei and I were on the way to get you when we heard the gunshots."

It sounded like an apology. Faith didn't know why he was apologizing—he'd done nothing wrong, after all—but she nodded anyway.

"I'm okay, Dad," she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. "Really."

He was silent after that, and he walked out and shut the door when Wufei came in with the necessary paperwork. Wufei dragged a plastic chair over from the table and sat a few feet away from Faith.

"Name," he said.

"Faith Maxwell," she replied automatically. It was the name she'd used for most of her life. She wasn't changing it until somebody made her change it.

"Maxwell, hm?" Wufei asked as he scribbled it on the form. "You aren't related to Duo Maxwell, by any chance, are you?"

"In a way," Faith replied slowly. "I'm adopted."

"I know the whole story," Wufei said. "I just don't know what Yuy wants me to put on these sorry forms; I figured he would have told you. I hate doing paperwork. I did not join this organization to be a secretary."

Faith gave him her blankest, most innocent expression, and didn't say a thing. Ordinarily, she'd have to come up with something biting, but at the moment, she was afraid heckling the Preventer might be considered an obstruction of justice.

"Age," Wufei said, getting on with it.

"Fifteen," Faith replied. _I'm not sitting here all day while he takes his time with these stupid papers,_ she thought. She began blurting out the answers before he could ask the questions. "I'm exactly five feet tall. I weigh eighty-five pounds, and I have brown hair and blue eyes. Mixed race—my mom's European and my dad's Japanese. I don't know my current address because we don't get mail delivery at the house. Obviously, I don't have any job history, but I'm a student at Dalton Preparatory Academy. No history of psychosis or illegal drug use, but I do have epilepsy and a mental condition that causes me to memorize everything I come into contact with. My dad had one of these forms in his desk. Just in case you were wondering."

Wufei scribbled down her answers as quickly as she rattled them off. He gave her a searching look when he finished writing, and she returned it with a vacant stare.

"You're the kid who gives my son so much hell at school," Wufei remarked, breaking into a smile. "Keep it up. The competition is good for him."

It wasn't what Faith had expected. She found herself smiling back at Wufei, and the interview went smoothly after that.

"Sally tells me you've been giving Heero trouble," Wufei said when they finished with the last of the forms. "I'm not going to tell you that he doesn't deserve it. It was shameful of him to leave you with Maxwell all this time. But there's a lot he can teach you if you ask him."

"Hm," Faith replied. She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't think her relationship with her dad was anybody's business but theirs. Wufei got it. He opened the door and indicated that she should go out first.

Faith was happy to escape. Her dad was waiting outside for her; his office had been taped off and agents were hovering around, snapping photos and taking notes. Wufei joined them, barking out questions and making a few snide remarks when he didn't get answers fast enough. Faith almost laughed. It seemed her dad was right about Wufei—he really did like to put on a tough show for the people working under him.

"Come on," her dad said. "You don't have to be here for this."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"We're going to get some lunch. I called Relena. She said you can stay with her this afternoon. She doesn't have many appointments, and her security is keeping the office on lockdown today. Nobody's getting in without an appointment and ID."

Faith nodded. He was worried about her, that was all.

"Can I get my tablet?" she asked. "Or is that evidence now?"

"I'll bring it to you when they're finished in there," he said. "They'll want to take pictures of everything, but it shouldn't be a problem after that."

There was nothing left to say. Faith followed her dad around the corner and down the stairs.

* * *

><p>Faith was quiet during lunch. Heero couldn't blame her, not after what she'd been through. She wasn't the type for hysterics or tears, and he was privately grateful. He wasn't up for any crazy antics. Not today.<p>

Neither of them was hungry. They both ate mechanically, because it was something you just did around this time of day. It was normal, and normal was good. Heero had been through this process before, again and again, so often that it was routine to him. It wasn't routine to Faith, and he hoped it never would be. But it was interesting that she adapted to strife the same way he had.

"Dad?" she started, looking up from her bowl of soup, "Wufei said I can learn a lot from you. So—teach me something."

She only seemed half-serious—she was probably bored—so he gave her a half-serious answer in return.

"You should always be nice to the people who have the power to spit in your food. One harsh word to the wrong waitress and suddenly you're laid up with mono while everyone else is out having fun."

"Gross! _Dad!_"

He couldn't have asked for a better reaction out of Faith. She pushed her bowl away and scowled at him.

"You asked," he replied, smirking at her disgusted expression. "It was some of the best advice my dad ever gave me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I've never gotten mono, anyway, so I guess it's working out for me."

"Sick," Faith muttered. "Okay, you're not allowed to steer the conversation anymore. At least not while we're eating. Tell me about Mom instead."

He frowned at her. He couldn't help it—there were too many ways to respond to that request, and a number of them were inappropriate. It was probably natural for her to be curious, though. Especially since she was going to be staying on Earth indefinitely.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Well, you could elaborate on how you met her," she prodded.

"Not today," he said. It wasn't his proudest moment. And it was definitely inappropriate in light of their current situation. Faith didn't need to know that the only reason he was sitting in front of her—the only reason she'd even been born—was because the suicide bomb built into his flight suit had failed to properly detonate after being immersed in seawater.

"I'll tell you about the last day I worked for Relena," he said. Faith nodded. "That was back when Preventer still covered her security detail, and I was one of her bodyguards. Everyone who knew us back then will tell you that there was something going on between the two of us, that we were secretly seeing each other, but we weren't. We had a friendly work relationship. That was it."

"Sure it was," Faith replied. Heero rolled his eyes—he should have expected that—but he was glad for the remark. It meant she was feeling better.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" he asked. She sat back in her chair, smiling slightly, and he took it as a sign that she wanted him to continue.

"It was August, and I'd spent the whole summer teaching her how to swim. We were outside, and she thought she saw something in the pool. We went over to see what it was and she pushed me in."

"Oh, no," Faith said, grinning. "What did you do?"

"I grabbed her," he replied. "If I was going down, I was taking her with me."

"Were you mad?"

"You bet," he said. "I had several thousand dollars worth of surveillance equipment on me at the time—Preventer gear that we used to make the job easier. It was all ruined. And she just laughed and said, 'Well, I guess you should get something that's waterproof next time.'"

He'd been livid at the time. It had been Relena's revenge for the day he'd shoved her into the pool as a test of her swimming abilities. How was he to know she'd been wearing her favorite pair of suede shoes? His area of expertise was security. Not women's clothing. He'd told her to wear something waterproof next time. And then he'd had to duck to avoid the shoes. Relena had good aim, and she did _not_ throw like a girl.

"I couldn't let that slide," he continued. "I told her I'd get her for that one, and she laughed at me. She said I'd have to catch her first. It took a good ten minutes—she'd gotten really good at swimming—and by the time I caught her, I wasn't mad anymore."

By the time he'd caught her, it was because she'd wanted to be caught. She'd looked up at him and he'd noticed, for the first time, exactly how blue her eyes were. After swimming for so long, her breath came in soft pants. Her face was flushed. Even her lips were red from the exercise. Her wet skin felt slick under his fingers, and her gold hair was in a beautiful disarray. She'd tilted her head back to look at him, and—

"Dad?"

"Hn?" _Right. Faith._ "Anyway. I realized that I couldn't work for Relena anymore after that. It was a risk to both our reputations. I called Commander Une and got myself transferred to a different division. Your mom and I started dating the day the transfer was official. Four months later, we were married."

"Four _months_?" Faith asked. "Holy crap. You guys were in an awful hurry."

"We knew what we wanted," he replied, shrugging. "By that point, we were out of school. We both had successful careers, and we were just farther along than a lot of our peers."

Maybe that hadn't been a good story to tell Faith after all. He didn't have any regrets about what he'd done, but he didn't want Faith following in his footsteps, either. _Call me a hypocrite, but I don't want Faith getting married at nineteen_, he thought.

"Come on," he said, pulling out his wallet and leaving enough cash on the table to cover their lunches. "Your mom's probably wondering where we are by now. And I have to get back to work."

Faith nodded and pushed her chair back. Relena's office was just down the block, so they walked rather than deal with the hassle of finding a parking space at this time of day. Heero left her in the lobby with one of Relena's security guards.

"Do I have to tell you to behave yourself?" he asked.

"Only if you want to embarrass both of us," she replied. Carolyn, the security guard, tried to cover a smile. Heero understood—he let Faith get away with a lot. It was the sort of thing that would be funny to outsiders. Sometimes he even enjoyed the banter. Faith had an outrageous sense of humor, one that brought back memories of his mother's jokes—things he thought he'd forgotten long ago.

"All right, then," he said. "Behave."

He ruffled her hair—partly to add insult to injury and partly because he just wanted to—and left.

* * *

><p><em>She really is her father's daughter<em>, Relena thought, listening to Faith relay that morning's events. _I wouldn't be so calm after going through all of that. _

"My goodness," she murmured when Faith finished. "It sounds like you've had an exciting day."

"I guess that's one way of putting it," Faith replied. "Mom?"

"Hmm?" Faith had a curious expression on her face. "What is it, Fay?"

"How did you meet Dad?" she asked. "He changes the subject every time I ask him."

Relena chuckled. "I can imagine," she replied, thinking back to that day. "He's probably embarrassed. I found him washed up on shore after he fell out of his mobile suit. I called for emergency services, and he came to just as they arrived. He beat up the medics, stole the ambulance, and the next day he showed up at my school and threatened to kill me."

"Wow." Faith let out a burst of laughter, and Relena couldn't help grinning. "That's _so_ much better than the story Dad told me about you. Not that it wasn't a good story. It's just—that's really funny. Especially the part about the ambulance. Holy crap, I needed that."

"Heero told you something about me?" Relena asked. As far as she knew, Heero never discussed their relationship with anyone. She wondered what he could have possibly said to Faith.

"He said you shoved him into the pool one day," Faith replied.

"I did," Relena replied. "Mr. Perfect Soldier my ass. He should have seen that coming from a mile away."

It had been too much fun, though, Relena remembered. She hadn't planned for success; she'd even been wearing her bathing suit under her clothes. It hadn't been a total failure, though—at least until Heero caught her. He'd grabbed her, taken one good look, and bolted.

"He took off afterward," Relena finished. "Jumped out of the pool and onto his bike. I didn't see him again for a good two weeks. He showed up to escort me to a charity function, and he tried to kiss me when he dropped me back at home. I slapped him."

He should have kissed her in the pool like she'd wanted instead of running off and hurting her feelings like that. The idiot.

"That was pretty harsh," Faith remarked. "I mean, I know it was your first date and all, but still. Poor Dad."

"I hadn't realized it was supposed to be a date," Relena replied. "It was a scheduled event. He'd known about it for months. My guards escorted me to parties and special events on a rotation, and Heero had taken over for someone who had a previous engagement. I thought he was just trying to get back on my good side."

"Oh," Faith said.

"Once he explained everything to me, I told him that gentlemen don't kiss on the first date. And then I shut the door in his face."

She wasn't going to tell Faith the rest—that Heero had somehow managed to scale her balcony before she'd made it upstairs to her bedroom. He'd waited for her, and stepped out of the shadows just as she'd closed her bedroom door.

"Relena. What did I ever do to give you the idea that I'm a gentleman?" he'd asked, his voice low and dangerous, before stealing a kiss and jumping out the window into the night.

He was more of a gentleman than he'd thought, though—after surprising her in her bedroom like that, Relena would have happily let him have more than just a kiss.

"What is it?" Faith asked. "You're turning red."

"Just—your father," Relena said, feeling her cheeks burn.

"You're still in love with him, aren't you?" Faith asked. "I know he still loves you. Why do you want to divorce him?"

Relena sighed. "Love just isn't enough, Faith," she murmured. "I put my greatest wish on hold to be with Heero, and I'm not going to wait around anymore. I can't."

_I shouldn't be telling her this_, Relena realized, seeing her daughter's face fall.

"Duo and Hilde used to be like that, too," Faith said hopefully. "They always fought. But then, after Hilde had her stroke, they started seeing a counselor. It helped."

"I don't think that's going to help your father and me," Relena replied sadly. "Our problems are all caused by things going on outside our relationship. All I ever wanted was my chance to have a family. I never had any close siblings growing up, and I wasn't raised by my real parents. I just—wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. If it wasn't for those terrorists, I think everything would be okay. But you know how things are—it just isn't safe."

Relena pulled the tissue box out of her desk drawer and offered it to Faith before taking one for herself. She dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose for the umpteenth time. She tossed the used tissue into the wastebasket without even aiming; she'd done it enough times lately that the motions were second nature.

"I think I get it," Faith said quietly. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Me too, Fay," Relena said. "I'll always love your father, but I just can't wait any longer."

Relena wrung her hands, reflexively seeking out the ring that she'd once worn so proudly. It was gone; all that was left was the bony bump on her knuckle where she'd broken her finger the day she fell down the stairs. She didn't even know if the ring would fit now, and her finger was still so swollen and ugly that she didn't want to draw attention to it anyway.

She sniffled again, and grabbed another tissue. Thinking of her ring kicked off a vicious cycle. It reminded her of her fall, which reminded her of the baby, which reminded her of Heero, and how guilty she still felt about not telling him. They couldn't have kept the baby, but—at least, if she hadn't been so foolish about everything—she might have been able to hold it before giving it up to be raised by someone else.

Just like she'd been raised.

The intercom buzzed, and they both jump.

"Yes?" Relena asked, pressing the button.

"Your three-thirty is here," Julia said, her voice tinny over the machine. "Do you want to reschedule?"

It was Eric. She'd already missed their appointment last week, and then she'd had to cancel their lunch meeting when security put the building on lockdown. She couldn't cancel on him again.

"No," she said. "Send him in."

"Right away."

Relena sat back in her chair and let out a sigh. Eric was getting to be a good friend. He'd be sympathetic if she wasn't quite herself this afternoon.

"You can stay if you want," she said to Faith. "Nothing Eric and I have to say is private—we're working on a charity project together. He's trying to start a program to retrain and rehabilitate retired police canines and guard dogs—dogs like Torstin—so they can have happy homes once they're too old to work. I think you'll like him."

"Not today," Faith said. "I think I'm going to go downstairs and see Torstin in action, if that's okay."

Relena smiled. "Of course."

Faith slipped out past Eric, not stopping to introduce herself. Relena didn't correct her—she'd had a rough day. A lapse in manners was excusable. She walked around her desk, and flashed Eric a smile of his own.

"Darling!" he exclaimed. "Don't tell me you've been crying _again_. What did I tell you about waterproof mascara?"

Relena laughed through her tears. "Oh, Eric."

"Come on, I know it's in that desk drawer somewhere," Eric said, going through her desk until he found it. "I'm telling you, sister, every great woman needs a gay best friend. Here. Cold cream and mascara. Go fix yourself up, honey. Trust me—you'll feel better."

Relena took the items and went into the bathroom to comply. Somehow Eric's suggestions, as off-the-wall as they could be, usually helped. It wouldn't be a long meeting anyway. As far as their charity went, they had everything planned but the smallest few details.

* * *

><p>Notes: Wow. This was a long one, wasn't it? There are things I could cut, but they're mostly the humorous things, and I think this chapter needs a little humor.<p>

As always, thanks so much for all the reviews, alerts, favorites, etc. You guys really keep me going!


	20. Chapter 20

Heero was late getting home from work—which was no surprise considering the security breach, and the fact that the incident had culminated in his office—and he was surprised the house was so dark and silent.

Faith just wasn't the quiet type. She could be quiet when it was necessary, but it didn't come naturally to her. And Relena, being Relena, liked to have every light in the house blazing. Security would have alerted him to any problems, though, so maybe they were just off doing their own things. It wouldn't be hard to figure it out.

_First things first_, he thought, going to put his briefcase away. He didn't need a light to find his way through the living room and down the hall. At least, he wouldn't have needed a light if Torstin hadn't been taking up the entire hallway.

The dog had taken up a guard stance outside Faith's door, and he greeted Heero with a soft warning growl. Heero found the flashlight he kept in his jacket pocket and clicked it on so he wouldn't step on the black dog in the dark. Oddly, there was a tissue box on the carpet outside Faith's door. He left it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Torstin was blocking the way, and since he was likely to bite in his watchful state, Heero simply leaned his briefcase against the wall and decided to check on Faith before he went to talk to Relena. He retrieved her tablet from his briefcase. Torstin surged to his feet and retrieved the tissue box. He sat patiently at Heero's heel, waiting for him to open the door.

_Something's wrong_, he thought, frowning at the dog. Torstin didn't usually attach himself to strangers so easily. That he'd grown so fond of Faith in such a short time was a relief—it wouldn't have been good if Torstin had decided to try, say, protecting Relena from Faith—but the dog's body language told Heero that something was off.

He opened Faith's door slowly, giving her a small warning before walking in. She was still startled, though; she stared at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, and he wondered what had happened. The last few days had been hell for her, one horrible incident after another, and she'd handled it with little more than a few sarcastic quips.

So why was she crying now?

"Dad!" she scolded. "Knock. _Please._"

She'd obviously just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was loose and still damp, and a comb was sticking out of a particularly nasty snarl. In addition to being the same color as his, it was apparently just as unruly. Heero didn't understand how she could bear to keep it so long. Faith yanked the comb out when she noticed him staring and tossed it onto her nightstand.

"They finished with your tablet," he said awkwardly, holding it out to her. Faith clambered off her bed and went to take it from him. She clutched it to her chest like a shield, and he wondered what could have possibly upset her.

He didn't come out and ask what was wrong. He'd made that mistake with Relena enough times that he knew she'd either lose her temper or cry even more. Faith had enough in common with her mother that he didn't want to risk alienating her now that she'd finally started to trust him.

But there was more than one way to get information out of somebody.

"Are you up for talking?" he asked. "There are some things you should know."

She nodded and sat on the edge of her bed, clutching her tablet to her chest like a smaller child might cling to a favored doll. Heero hoped she couldn't see how concerned he was for her; she already read him better than anyone, even Relena, and he didn't think she would talk if she thought it might upset him.

"More bad news?" she asked as he pulled out her desk chair and sat down. Torstin dropped the tissue box at her feet and trotted out of the room, tail waving.

"Not all of it," Heero replied, sad that she'd come to expect bad things to happen at every turn. "I called Duo while you were with Relena. He talked to someone from your school, and they've decided to go ahead and let you have your diploma."

"That is good," Faith mumbled. Her tone indicated that the news wasn't as cheering as he'd hoped it would be. _But why should that make her happy?_ he wondered. _She's still stuck here, and she's made it clear that she'd rather be with Duo._

"Trowa's supposed to bring it when he comes tomorrow," he added. "Duo said he's going to send a few other things along, so you'll be more comfortable here."

He'd thought dropping Trowa's name might help. But if anything, it only made things worse. Faith stared at her feet—or possibly at her purple toenails—and her hair fell over her shoulders to hide her face.

"I'm not planning on getting comfortable," Faith replied from behind the curtain of her hair. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was crying again; her voice trembled ever so slightly, and her shoulders shook. "Not with things the way they are."

Maybe it was just the accumulated stress getting to her, Heero realized.

"Hey," he said gently. "You'll be okay here. We have better resources, and this house is as safe as we can make it. It's going to take more than a couple of crazy Red Fang members to get into this place."

"No," Faith argued. "I don't mean that. Don't you and Mom ever talk about _anything_?"

He hesitated a moment. _Maybe Relena said something?_ Relena certainly had enough troubling secrets; he had a feeling that Lucy had only touched the tip of the iceberg the other day. Relena's silence was testament to that.

"There hasn't been much time," he admitted.

"She talked to me today," Faith explained, sniffling softly. "She said she wants to have a family. She isn't divorcing you because she doesn't care about you. She's divorcing you because it isn't safe, since you're the reason I'm being targeted. But—I'm just as big a threat as you are. I don't think I'll be welcome here much longer."

No wonder she was crying.

It wasn't a complete surprise, not really. Relena had always wanted a large family; he'd known that before marrying her. And if it hadn't been so dangerous, he would have been happy to oblige. Relena wasn't the only one who liked kids.

But he couldn't believe she'd gone and said that to Faith. Not now, when Faith's situation was so precarious.

Torstin drifted back into the room with another tissue box in his mouth. He pushed it into Faith's lap and left again, presumably to fetch another one. He'd always enjoyed search-and-retrieve games.

"Faith." She looked up at the sound of her name, and her expression was as smooth as glass beneath her tears. She was trying, really trying, to hold it together in spite of it all."Did Relena actually tell you that? In those exact words?"

"Pretty much," she replied, reaching down to take a tissue from the box. "I mean, she doesn't seem to realize that the Red Fang is still going to come after me, but it wasn't a hard conclusion to come to. If Mom's willing to cut you out of her life, she'll do it to me, too. She wants to start over—and I'm a reminder of everything that's gone wrong."

Heero moved to sit beside Faith, even as he suppressed a surge of relief. Relena was simply talking. She hadn't considered Faith's intelligence, or her ability to draw conclusions based on the smallest grains of information. It didn't mean that Relena wasn't planning on starting over, just that Faith was looking too deeply into everything. Heero didn't think Relena would give Faith up, even if she left him. But Relena probably wasn't looking at the big picture, either.

"Relena isn't herself right now, Faith," he said, speaking slowly, phrasing things so Faith would understand what was going on without telling her more than she needed to know. "A few weeks ago, she lost somebody she loved very much. There was an accident, and that person died very suddenly. Everyone deals with death differently. But it almost always makes you realize that life is short, and you have to enjoy it while you've got it."

It was next to impossible to sit still and talk about these issues with Faith. He took her comb from her nightstand and started working it through her damp hair. She tensed, but didn't protest, so he didn't stop. He almost wished she'd gripe at him; she wasn't herself when she quietly let him get away with invading her space.

"Trowa always says that the only way to live a good life is to follow your emotions," Faith said at last. "I guess that's what Mom is doing now."

Regardless, Relena shouldn't have said anything to Faith without discussing it with him first. And she certainly shouldn't have presented it so callously.

"That's still no reason for Relena to talk to you the way she did," he replied, gently working the comb through another tangle and hoping he wasn't bothering Faith too much. "That was thoughtless."

If Faith had a response to that, she didn't share it. The silence was growing comfortable, though, so he finished combing through her hair and sat back to admire his handiwork. She'd want to dry it before braiding it again, but at least it wasn't a mass of snarls anymore.

"So what else does Trowa say?" he asked, putting the comb back where Faith had left it and moving back to sit at her desk.

"Oh, lots of things," she replied loftily. Apparently they were good enough to keep secret because she didn't elaborate. "So what's going to happen now, Dad?"

He didn't have a good answer for that. It all depended on Relena, and on the situation with the Red Fang. If Heero didn't get results soon, he was going to start looking farther outside the strictly legal channels. This was getting ridiculous.

"It isn't anything you need to worry about," he said after a moment, trying to soothe Faith's nerves. "If Relena doesn't want us here, you and I can leave. After that, the possibilities are infinite. We can change our names and disappear. Or, if you want, we can hire some bodyguards and you can give that college a try. You may not be able to go back to the colony, but your friends can come and see you as long as we're careful. It won't be so bad."

Faith nodded, but she didn't seem convinced. He knew it wasn't what she wanted, but it was the best he could offer at the moment.

"I don't want to leave Mom," she said as her eyes filled with tears again. "Not if I have to stay here."

"Me either," he replied. "But nothing is final yet, Faith. Relena isn't going to just give up on you, and I'm not leaving you again either. We'll be okay."

"You'd better not leave me again," Faith warned, smiling faintly through her tears. "I'll never forgive you if you do."

"I know," he replied, returning her smile. If he couldn't keep that simple promise, he didn't deserve her forgiveness.

There was a thump from her Relena's office upstairs and, a second later, the sound of Relena yelling Torstin's name. The door slammed a moment after that; Relena apparently didn't feel like chasing after the dog.

"I don't think we need to wonder what's going on up there," Heero muttered as he got to his feet. "But I think I'll go check anyway. Will you be alright down here?"

"Yeah," Faith said. "I'm probably going to crash soon anyway. Thanks for fixing my hair, Dad. You do good work for an old guy."

He grinned at that. He hadn't been expecting thanks, or the backhanded compliment.

"I'm not old," he replied. "And who do you think fixed it when you were little? I changed diapers, too, you know."

"_Dad!_ Gross!"

He caught the pillow she threw at him and tossed it back gently. He could have elaborated on the diapers, just to get a reaction out of her, but he didn't want to embarrass her any more. She got the point and she was still smiling. He considered it a victory, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Goodnight, Faith."

"'Night, Dad!"

He left cheerfully, glad that something had gone right for a change. It was only too bad that talking with Relena wasn't going to go nearly as smoothly.

* * *

><p>Relena considered downgrading from a vidphone to a plain, old-fashioned voice-only model. She could only keep her eyes from glazing over for so long. She hadn't held an official press conference to discuss Faith's presence in her household, deciding to play it by ear, and now she regretted it.<p>

The tabloids had started running photos, mostly from Heero and Faith's shopping excursion on Saturday. So far, they all thought she was illegitimate. Relena snorted softly. As if Heero would cheat on her. He wasn't the type. And even if he was, no tabloid would get wind of it—he'd managed to avoid the paparazzi for almost six weeks when they were separated. Even if he was a complete ass when it came to talking to reporters, he did know how to hide his trail from them.

"Ms. Relena, I _have_ to know who this girl is," her publicist demanded over the phone. "I can't do anything to smooth this over unless you tell me everything. I need details!"

Relena sighed. "I'll draft a press release and send it to you in the morning," she muttered. "Honestly, it's not worth getting worked up over. This isn't even an election year."

"No," Meagen agreed. "But next year is. And people remember things like this, Ms. Relena."

Relena pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn't sure she wanted another term in office. Faith was home for good, thanks to Lady Une, and so far Relena had barely managed to squeeze in a few hours with her. Another campaign would make it impossible to be with Faith, and they'd spent more than enough time apart already. Relena was ready to settle down and just be a mom for a while.

She jumped a good six inches when Heero burst in without knocking. She glanced up at him, and mild irritation turned to dismay when she saw the scowl on his face.

"Ms. Relena! Are you listening?" Meagen demanded.

"I'm sorry," Heero said, stepping into the camera's field of vision. "She's going to have to call you back."

He ended the call by unplugging the phone. Relena rolled her eyes. _Real mature, Heero_, she thought._ You could have asked._

"That wasn't necessary," she said. "Honestly, Heero, disconnecting the phone was just childish. But you've made your point. What do you want?"

She thought she knew. They still hadn't discussed any of their issues; she'd been avoiding them, and him, as much as she possibly could. She wanted to move on, but she wasn't quite ready to break her husband's heart. Not when he was trying so hard to hold things together.

"I want to know exactly what you said to Faith this afternoon," he said, his voice dangerously calm.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," she replied. She might have told him if he'd asked nicely, but she wasn't going to respond to bullying and scare tactics. _And he should know that by now_, she thought, meeting his scowl with one of her own.

His look darkened, and she realized that she'd never seen him so angry. Not in all the years she'd been married to him, or all the years before.

"It becomes my business when I come home to find my daughter crying because she thinks you don't want her," he told her.

Relena's breath caught in her throat. _What did I say?_ she thought, frantically trying to remember anything that might have given Faith that idea. And then it hit her. She'd been talking about the divorce, and about starting over. Faith couldn't leave fast enough once Eric had arrived and given her an excuse to go. She hadn't come back after that, either; she'd spent the rest of the afternoon in the mail room with Torstin.

"Oh, no," Relena murmured. "I never meant to give Faith that idea—"

"But you did," Heero interrupted. "And now that it's out there, you can't take it back. I don't blame you for wanting to start over, Relena. If that's what you really want—I won't stop you. But keep in mind that the terrorists that are after Faith tried to attack Duo's four-year-old to get at her. If we can't stop them, they're going to do it again and again—and if you should have another child, there won't be a way to guarantee its safety if Faith stays here, too. Just cutting me out of the picture isn't going to fix things."

_He's right,_ Relena realized grimly. _Why didn't I see this earlier?_

Heero was good enough at reading her that he knew what she was thinking.

"You have a decision to make," he said. "As it stands, you can do two things—move on, like you're planning, double up on security and hope for the best. I'll keep Faith, but I won't keep her from you. It'll be dangerous, but people respect you enough that maybe everything will come out okay."

He didn't believe everything would be okay, though. Relena saw it in his eyes; she'd gotten to be good at reading him, too.

"Or?" she prompted.

"Or," he said, "You can open your eyes, Relena. You already have a family. One that needs you."

Relena let out a bitter chuckle. "You never needed me, Heero," she said. "And Faith is almost grown. She's already so independent; she doesn't need me, either."

He shook his head, smiling now, although it wasn't an entirely happy smile.

"You just don't see it," he said. "Faith idolizes you. She tries so hard to imitate you. She copies your gestures. She wears your perfume, and it seems like her nails are a different color every time I see her. She'd probably go through your closet if she could fit into your clothes."

She really hadn't noticed. _Does that make me a terrible mother?_ she wondered. _I've been so caught up in my own issues, and Faith—she really does need me, as a role model if nothing else._

Heero reached for the phone cable and plugged it back in. It rang almost immediately, and Relena pressed the button to silence it even though Heero was obviously leaving.

"I understand if you want to move on," he said. "But I don't think you could ever find anything better than the life you have in front of you. It's your call, Relena. If you don't want me here—that's fine. But I won't leave Faith in this place if it seems like she'll become a burden to you and your next family. It isn't fair to you or to her."

He brushed a stray tear off her cheek, and then he was gone. Relena slumped over her desk and wondered why life had to be so difficult.

Angrily, she blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked in her purse for her address book. She still hadn't gotten around to entering all of the information into her new cell phone; at least she had a hard copy.

"I have to fix this," she murmured to herself, reaching for the phone. "I'm so _sick_ of sitting around and crying all the time, and never getting anything accomplished. This stops now."

* * *

><p>It was three in the morning, but Heero wasn't asleep. He sat at his desk, working aimlessly, trying to track down a lead. A break in the case. Anything.<p>

Faith sprawled across his bed, hogging the covers and snoring softly. At least she was finally resting. She'd started sleepwalking around midnight. The first time, Heero hadn't realized what was happening until she'd tripped over the coffee table. He'd had to carry her back to bed.

The second time, he'd turned her around and guided her back to her room. And the third time, he'd simply put her into his bed, locked the door, and booted up his laptop. She'd probably complain and call him a pervert when she woke, but it was better than letting her wander around and hurt herself.

And if she whined too much, he'd offer to tell Len how much she snored. The thought brought a smile to his lips; that one was bound to get a good reaction out of her.

The ceiling creaked as Relena resumed pacing upstairs. Heero wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

He felt like a monster for treating her so harshly earlier. But if it helped mend things between Faith and Relena, he could live with the feeling. He'd done worse things, after all.

This time of night, even Torstin was sound asleep, and the house was nearly silent. Relena's footsteps stopped walking the well-worn path beside her bed, and Heero listened as she walked out of the bedroom and toward the stairs, out of his earshot. She was probably going to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea.

He considered, briefly, and closed his laptop. He wanted to check on Relena, and it didn't look like Faith was going anywhere. She hadn't moved in over an hour.

He flicked the lock silently and opened the door, and there was Relena, staring at him with wide eyes, one hand poised to knock.

"Heero."

"Relena."

* * *

><p>Notes: And Chapter 20 is finally out of the way! It doesn't feel like my best work, but now that it's done, I feel like celebrating! Haha, in case you couldn't tell, this one gave me trouble. I'm just no good at conflict.<p>

Aaaanyway, the next chapter shouldn't take as long as this one. Thanks so much for all of the reviews, favorites, etc.! They really mean a lot. :D


	21. Chapter 21

Relena's surprise wore off quickly—_Of course he knew I was here,_ she thought—and she stepped into Heero, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him close. His arms slipped around her, just for a second, but the motion lacked his usual careless grace. He was uncertain of her motives, and she realized that he didn't fully trust her.

She couldn't blame him. She'd put him through hell these past few weeks yet, for some unfathomable reason, he'd chosen to stay at her side.

She wasn't sure she deserved it.

"I came down to check on Faith, but she isn't in her room," she explained. "Your light was on, so—"

He stepped to the side and Relena saw Faith asleep in a graceless sprawl across his bed. It was so unlike the calm, tidy girl Relena had come to know that she couldn't quite suppress a chuckle. She sobered at the look Heero shot at her, controlling herself so she wouldn't wake her daughter.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. It was three in the morning, after all, and Heero wasn't the type to let just anyone into his private space. Faith hadn't been allowed in their bed when she was little—they'd worried about spoiling her, among other things—so it certainly didn't seem appropriate now.

"It's fine now that she's sleeping," he replied quietly, pushing her back into the hall and closing the door without a sound. "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want something?"

"Yes," she said after a moment's thought. She wanted to talk to him anyway. It was late, but since they were both up, she might as well say what needed to be said.

Relena let Heero lead her to the kitchen, blinking as he hit the switch and light flooded the room. She clung to his hand as he filled her tea kettle and set it on the burner. The pantry was a tight squeeze for two people, but they made it work. Heero was, as always, resourceful and deliberate in his movements, and he easily worked around Relena as he retrieved packets of tea and a pair of mugs.

It was one of those simple, domestic moments that only seemed blasé until it wasn't there anymore. Some things, Relena was learning, were all too easy to take for granted.

They settled at the table while they waited on the kettle; Relena dragged her chair around and sat as close to him as she could get. If he minded, he'd say something. Tiptoeing around him wasn't going to fix anything; Heero respected her because she was bold, and he loved her because she didn't let him intimidate her. Shyness at this point would make him uncomfortable and push him farther away. And Relena was tired of pushing her husband away.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, startling her from her quiet observation.

She looked down at her left hand; she'd been fiddling with it again, massaging the tender areas without thinking.

"I broke it," she confessed. Her voice was eerily calm to her, considering the subject; she was starting to think that maybe she'd run out of tears. "I fell down the stairs—just like Lucy told you. I tried to catch myself, and I broke two of my fingers and a couple of other little bones. They took the cast off the day before you came home."

He reached for her, and she let him take her hand. She closed her eyes while he examined it carefully; it was almost a caress. He was always gentle with her. Even when he was angry about something.

"You should have told me," he admonished.

"I know," she whispered. "For what it's worth—I'm sorry."

Sorry wasn't enough. She knew that. He'd forgive her—knowing him, he already had—but it would take time to build back the trust they'd once had in each other. She'd do it, though. No matter what it took.

The kettle started steaming. Heero snagged it before it could whistle and wake Faith. He poured water into the mugs and set the tea bags to steep. It wasn't as good as loose leaf, but sometimes it was more convenient. Relena didn't mind.

"Thank you for—earlier," she mumbled as she watched the tea bleed dark lines into the hot water. "I think I needed to hear that."

Heero didn't say anything, but Relena knew he was listening. She took a breath, trying to calm herself—_I'm not going to cry anymore. I'm just not_—and collected her thoughts.

"I called Sally after you left," she continued, staring at the tabletop, a little embarrassed to be making this confession. "She recommended a psychiatrist, and even went so far as to arrange an appointment for me. I'm going Wednesday. Tomorrow, I guess."

It was late. Or early. Anyway. Today would be business as usual. Tomorrow—Relena was determined to start putting her life back together. She sipped at her tea, weak though it was, and tried not to be afraid. She'd faced worse things, after all. And Faith had been seeing a psychiatrist for years—it was required for all of the students at her school, to keep the suicide rate down—and she seemed okay.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Heero asked, concern in his eyes. He rarely masked his emotions around her anymore; at least she hadn't lost that.

Relena considered briefly. "No," she replied. "At least, not this time. I'm still getting used to the idea of going, and I think it's best if I start by tackling my personal issues. After that—we'll see."

He nodded and the quiet agreement was reassuring. He usually supported her decisions—and when he didn't, he gave her a good reason for his dissent.

"I'll talk to Faith in the morning and set things straight with her," Relena said. "I'm not going to throw my daughter to the wolves. No matter what happens."

"I didn't think you would, once you had a better grasp of what's been going on," Heero replied. "But then, I never thought you'd want a divorce, either."

Relena shrugged. She still wasn't sure about that—whether she wanted it, or even where the idea had come from—but she didn't have much to say about it now. She was tired, and she thought the psychiatrist might help her figure out exactly what had gone wrong in their marriage.

She covered up a yawn. "Sorry. I'm just—sleepy."

"Hn," Heero mumbled, in what might have been agreement. "I'll be right back," he said, getting up and walking back toward his room. She nodded and finished her tea, listening for him but hearing nothing. Maybe, now that the worst of their problems seemed to be over, he'd move his things back upstairs with her.

Or maybe she'd move hers downstairs with him. Faith seemed comfortable in her room, and Relena knew she needed to have someone nearby at night. _Heero's probably gone to check on her now_, she mused, setting her empty mug down on the tabletop and wandering down the hall after him.

Sure enough, he was moving Faith back over to her own room. Relena bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile as Faith snored uninterrupted through the entire process. _She's an awfully deep sleeper for a girl who takes so much after her father,_ she thought as she hurried to assist.

"She's really out, isn't she?" Relena murmured as she pulled the sheets back over Faith.

"Dak said it happens after certain kinds of seizures," Heero explained as they crept out of Faith's room and pulled the door to. "It's part of her brain's normalizing process. He sent me a file; you'll get a copy next time you turn your printer on."

"Thank you." Even if Heero had shouldered most of the Faith's care, Relena wanted to know as much as she could—and help as much as she could.

"Leave the kitchen like it is," she said when Heero turned to go back. "We'll clean up tomorrow. It's late."

He nodded. Relena started for the stairs and hesitated for the barest second, wondering if it would be pushing her luck to ask if she could stay with him tonight.

But then she remembered that it was her house and, problems or no, he was her husband, and she didn't need to ask for anything. If Heero was uncomfortable with her, he could say something. She reached out and took his arm, and he let her lead the way.

* * *

><p>"I'm not babysitting."<p>

Somehow, Wufei's blunt refusal came as no surprise. But Faith had planned accordingly—and it didn't hurt that Hilde had taught her how to talk a stubborn man into doing pretty much anything she wanted. The trick was to make it seem like it was his idea.

Faith shot Wufei her blankest, most innocent stare. "Who said you had to babysit?" she asked. "I don't see any babies around."

To his raised eyebrow, she added, "I'm an intern. It's for extra credit. If you really need a title, you can think of yourself as an instructor; it serves our purpose, and it sounds nicer than babysitter, too."

"I thought Commander Une wasn't going to let you go back to school," Wufei said pointedly. "Extra credit seems like a waste of time at this point."

"Lenny doesn't know that, now, does he?" Faith asked, laying her ace on the table. If this didn't work, she'd be banished to her mom's office instead, which would completely ruin her plans for the day. "You did say the competition is good for him."

That got a laugh out of Wufei and a startled look from her dad, who'd only agreed to let her stay if she could convince the other agent to keep an eye on her. Her dad was going down to the basement to use some special computer, and Faith wasn't allowed anywhere near it.

"All right," Wufei agreed. "But I don't want to hear a peep unless you're in trouble and you need help. Understood?"

"Completely," Faith said. She looked up at her dad. "Satisfied?"

"It'll do," her dad replied. He turned to Wufei. "Call me if you think she's up to something. Leave her alone too long and she gets—creative."

"Hardly," Faith muttered, though she didn't have to wonder where he'd gotten that idea. "I'm perfectly capable of quietly keeping myself entertained."

"Uh-huh," he said. "I guess someone else changed my ringtone to something called 'Friday' and then called me while I was meeting with Relena's security detail this morning. I don't want to know how you even _found _something so annoying."

"I guess I don't need to ask where Len gets these ideas," Wufei muttered. "He tried the same thing on Sally at breakfast—but the song was called 'Like a Surgeon.' _She_ thought it was hilarious." Faith grinned, completely unashamed. Her dad only rolled his eyes.

"Consider yourself forewarned," he said to Wufei. "She set an alarm and changed some of my other settings, too."

"Mmm," Faith murmured, looking away. He apparently hadn't noticed the new games yet. Getting ahold of his cell phone had been difficult—not that she was going to admit _that_—but it was completely worth the effort. "Maybe next time you'll put your phone someplace where I can't get my hands on it. You're getting soft, Dad—next thing you know, somebody's going to start planting bugs on you."

"It hasn't happened yet," her dad replied. "And if I ever catch you picking my pockets, you're going to be in serious trouble."

"We'll see if you can catch me first," Faith said, trying not to giggle when he scowled at her.

"All right," he said. "I'm going. _Behave._"

He ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance, and then he was gone. Wufei stayed behind, eyeing Faith speculatively.

"I'm going to work," Wufei said after a moment. "Mess with Heero all you want, but stay out of my office. If I find anything wrong with my phone or my computer, you're my first suspect."

_Lucky for you, I'm not interested in your stuff,_ Faith thought as she watched him go. _Because that sounded like a challenge._

Faith closed the door and locked it for good measure, and took a look around. Her dad's office hadn't changed much; if she hadn't been there when the man shot himself, she wouldn't have believed it had ever happened.

As it was, the memory made her stomach lurch. She was glad she hadn't seen anything more than a few drops of blood on the carpet. Faith took a deep breath and tried to ground herself—she had work to do, and not a lot of time to get it done. She pulled her tablet out of her bag and tapped out a quick email to her mom.

_I'm in. He's out, and the babysitter won't be hard to sweet talk. Let me know when you're ready._

This was going to be too good; her mom had helped her cook up the plan at breakfast, while her dad was showering. Faith had been surprised at her mom's devious streak—and altogether too pleased.

Unfortunately, all of the straightening she'd done yesterday had been undone during the investigation. Faith settled in to rearrange papers and clear off her dad's desk _again_ while she waited for her mom to respond. At least the work went faster the second time around. She was almost finished when her tablet pinged.

**Zakdak: Hey. Dad told us what happened. You okay?**

Faith considered. _Not really_, she thought. But she didn't want to worry Dak—he spent enough time fussing over her already, and she honestly had no idea why. She knew all of her brothers cared about her, at least on some level, but Dak was the only one who ever really showed it. It was kind of weird.

**Faithless: I'm fine. Really. How's the shuttle coming?**

**Zakdak: Srsly? People are trying to kill you, and you're worried about the shuttle?**

**Faithless: I just want to see it finished someday.**

**Zakdak: Riiiight. Oh. Trowa has a present for you. Maggie helped pick it out.**

**Faithless: Thank you! And thank Maggie. I miss you all.**

**Zakdak: Don't go all soft now, Fay. We'll see you again soon. Somehow.**

Faith wished she shared her brother's optimism. So far, everything just kept going farther down the crapper. But there wasn't a whole lot she could do to fix it, so she finished sorting through her dad's papers and then got up and started taking the picture frames off the wall.

She'd almost finished pulling all of the pictures out of their frames when her tablet chirped. Faith checked out her mom's email and smiled.

_Go sweet talk the babysitter. We're waiting._

* * *

><p>On the surface, Kiba Hydroponics was just another small, family-owned business. The company had grown quite large in recent years, however, and lately it had started involving itself in public works projects and currying political favor.<p>

The owner, Satoshi Kiba, was in his late sixties. He made decent money, owned quite a bit of real estate both on Earth and on several colonies, and gave regularly to several charities. He supported his two granddaughters, whose parents had died during the Eve Wars.

And that was where things started looking suspicious. The girls were fraternal twins, brought up from frozen embryos two years after their parents' deaths. It was possible that Satoshi had paid a surrogate to carry the embryos to term because he missed his daughter and son-in-law, but it seemed strange that a man of his age would want to raise two children on his own.

The girls' businesses were stranger still.

One of them, Selda, owned a mining operation. She held the deeds to several resource satellites and a refinery. The other girl, Arielle, was the owner of a construction company. Between the two of them, they had some kind of influence on every major colony cluster and they had close to three thousand employees.

But since the girls were minors, Satoshi Kiba held a controlling interest in both companies. He also controlled his nephew's space exploration venture, and a few other small businesses.

The operation was similar to the Winner family's vast holdings, although it wasn't as old or as well-established. And, unlike Winner, a majority of Kiba's employees had ties to the White Fang. If they weren't actually White Fang members, they were directly related to them.

It was all circumstantial evidence, of course, but combined with Faith's witness report from yesterday's incident, Heero thought he had enough to encourage Commander Une to conduct a more thorough investigation of Kiba's holdings. If Kiba wasn't actually connected to the Red Fang, it was possible that a few isolated Red Fang members were using the company as a front.

Heero printed the relevant documents and stuffed them into a file folder. It would probably take more than that to bring Kiba down, but it was a place to start.

* * *

><p>Notes: Yeah...That last section didn't come out the way I wanted it, but I'm tired of staring at it and trying to make it work. Thoughts? Suggestions? Chapter 22 is coming along, and it's better. I promise! :D<p>

Thanks so much for all of the reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. It's wonderful! You guys make me smile.


	22. Chapter 22

At first, Heero thought he'd walked into the wrong office by mistake.

The shades weren't just open—they were gone. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, filling the room with a much softer light than the harsh fluorescents. His desk had been moved to take full advantage of the light, and there was a new plant to replace the one that had died while he was away.

There was also a couch.

That was all fine, as far as Heero was concerned; he didn't care overmuch about how the furniture was arranged. But someone had taken all of the photos off the walls—and that was irritating. His office wasn't his office without the pictures. It was just another workspace.

In fact, the only thing that convinced Heero that it _was_ his office, aside from his name on the door, was the girl sleeping on the couch. She hadn't been out long—she wasn't snoring yet—but Heero didn't think she was pretending to be asleep.

He closed the door quietly and went across the hall.

"I thought you were going to keep an eye on her," he said to Wufei. "You were supposed to call me if it looked like she was up to something."

"She said you told her to clean," Wufei replied. "It looks clean to me. It looks like an office again without all that crap on the wall. You should be grateful."

From the way the other Preventer was trying to cover a smile, Heero could only assume that Faith had somehow convinced him to help. He rolled his eyes and went back to his own office. If Wufei didn't want to talk, he wouldn't.

"Sleeping on the job?" he asked, nudging Faith awake.

She scowled at him and sat up.

"I'm an intern, and as such, I have a reputation to uphold," she said. "Additionally, when it comes to labor, you get what you pay for."

"I haven't paid you anything," Heero said.

"Exactly," Faith replied. "Which is why I didn't wash the windows or vacuum. And a lot of this was Mom's idea. She thought your office was depressing, too; she said it's why she quit coming over here to see you."

That would explain why the pictures were gone. Even the frames had vanished. It might have been Relena's doing, but he had told Faith not to take them down. If she had said something, Relena probably would have left them.

"I thought I told you the pictures were important," he said to Faith. "You were supposed to leave those alone."

"You only said not to throw them away," Faith argued, getting up and walking to his desk. She sat down in his chair—a different chair than the one he'd had earlier, he noted—and pulled an album out of one of the desk drawers. "This is better. It's hardly professional of you to have all those pictures up on the walls anyway, Dad. What do you think people think when they walk in here and see all that?"

"I don't care what people think," he replied. "It's my office. They're my pictures."

"It's tacky. And since most of them are pictures of _me_, I think I get some say in how they're displayed," Faith declared. "You can have one picture out on your desk or on the wall. One. Period."

It was funny how she thought she could just walk in and take over. Heero wondered if it was part of being a teenager or if it was Relena's influence. But, just for fun, he decided to play along. He still had the pictures, after all; he could put them back up later and Faith could just deal with it.

"Do I at least get to pick the picture?" he asked.

She looked thoughtful. "If you want," she replied. "But I think you should let me pick. Or maybe Mom. Let's face it, Dad—this place needs a woman's touch."

Heero leaned over Faith's shoulder and leafed through the photo album. Except for the ones of Lucy and Gio, they were all old pictures and Faith was hardly a little girl anymore. When he thought about it, it _was_ kind of pathetic to have so many old baby pictures on display.

"All right," he said agreeably, closing the cover on the album and dropping it back into the drawer. "One picture. But I want a new one."

Faith smiled Relena's smile—the one she reserved for those moments when she knew she'd won an argument—and handed him a thin, rectangular package. The shiny pink wrapping paper was definitely Relena's choice, but it was pretty obvious that Faith had wrapped it. Tape covered every seam in the paper; after a few useless attempts at finding an opening, Heero surrendered and dug out his pocket knife.

"I was only gone for an hour and a half," he said, carefully slicing through the tape. "How did you have time to do all of this?"

Faith shrugged. "The couch came from Mom's building. They replaced it last month, and it's just been sitting in an empty office. She made all the arrangements when she got to work, and I just let her know when to have it sent over. The picture is one that Duo took a while ago, and Mom had the frame in a box at home."

Heero pulled the paper back—and nearly dropped the picture.

"Watch it!" Faith grumbled. "Jeez. Just throw it around, Dad. See if I ever give you anything nice again."

Heero didn't say anything. He couldn't.

They'd all been in such a hurry the day Faith was born. She'd come a little early, and everyone had been rushing around in a panic. And then, because Relena's doctor had sworn up and down that they were having a boy, Faith had been an even bigger surprise. Little things got overlooked in all of the craziness and—as Heero realized later—sometimes the little things are the most important ones.

_Leave it to Duo to do something like this_, he thought. _I had no idea…_

That much was obvious, though. If he'd known there was a camera nearby, he wouldn't have had such a stupid grin on his face. But looking at the picture and remembering the second time he'd gotten to hold Faith, when he'd gone to the nursery to see her while Relena slept, he couldn't help thinking that he was entitled to a stupid grin every once in a while.

But not where Faith could see and say something sarcastic. He coughed into his fist and tucked the picture into his briefcase. Faith watched him, frowning.

"You fussed so much over your pictures, and you aren't even going to put that one somewhere?" Faith asked. "Jeez."

"I'm taking it home," he replied. "When I said I wanted a new picture, I meant something recent."

_That didn't come out right,_ he realized, seeing Faith's expression suddenly go vacant. She didn't know where he kept all of his favorite pictures, after all. He made a note to show her later, partly so she'd let this go and partly because he wondered what she might remember.

"Ask Duo for something newer," she suggested, easily masking her hurt feelings. "I don't keep pictures of myself around. It's creepy."

"You think everything is creepy," Heero protested. "How about lunch? Is that creepy? Wufei's meeting Sally and Len at that place on the corner in an hour; they probably won't mind if we go with them."

"Len is definitely creepy," Faith replied, grinning. "He _likes _me. It's _weird_. But I think I can put up with it, Dad. For your sake."

* * *

><p>Faith crouched in the darkened kitchen, watching two men approach the house. One of them was average height, the other slightly taller. They both seemed slender, but it was hard to tell with the bulky jackets they wore.<p>

Of course, Faith had seen them before—she knew they were thin, built like runners or dancers rather than bodybuilders. She knew them; she knew their preferences, their habits, and even a few of the little things that made them who they were. She also knew that they were probably aware of her presence, but she wasn't overly concerned about that. Aware or not, they had _no_ idea what she was planning.

The shorter one spoke quietly; Faith couldn't make out the words, but she could hear his deep voice through the kitchen door. She scrunched herself tightly into the space next to the counter, hoping they wouldn't notice her as the back door swung open.

She wondered what her dad would say if he knew she was planning this ambush. He probably wasn't going to be happy, but her window of opportunity was slipping away; the men were making their way into the living room now, where her mom was having tea and watching the news. There wasn't time to reconsider—there was only time to act.

She pounced.

"Trowa!"

* * *

><p>Dinner was Chinese takeout again. It was just easier than trying to prepare something that everyone would like. And, for Relena, it was much easier than admitting that she couldn't make anything more complicated than sandwiches and tea.<p>

_Why am I making excuses?_ she wondered. _I've been too busy practically running the world to learn how to cook._

It was something she planned to rectify once she retired.

But for now, Chinese takeout would have to do. Relena nibbled on a bit of zucchini as she watched everyone else.

Heero and Faith seemed to be having a glaring contest. Heero had _not _been pleased with the way Faith had greeted Trowa, and Faith hadn't taken the scolding well. Relena stayed out of their little tiff—they'd get over it without her interfering. Trowa seemed to be staying out of it as well; he was skimming over a stack of documents and occasionally making notes in the margins.

"You think Kiba is behind these attacks," Trowa said at last, pushing the papers away and picking up his chopsticks.

"It looks suspicious," Heero replied. "I'm not going to stake my reputation on it yet, but I think it's worth looking into."

"The fruit company?" Relena asked. "That Kiba?"

"They do more than just that, Mom," Faith said. "Kiba's a lot like Winner—they have ties to mining and exploration ventures, and I've heard that they're planning on buying out another hydroponics company."

"I know," Relena said. "It's just—the owner seems like such a nice old man. He's raising his granddaughters by himself, and he's always donating to charities and scholarships."

Faith nodded. "I got my scholarship through Kiba, actually. Well. Kiba and Winner."

Heero looked up sharply. "What?"

"They co-sponsored a shuttle building contest on behalf of the European Technological Institute," Faith explained. "Dak and I both got scholarships when we won. But we'll lose them if we don't go to college the semester after we graduate high school."

That was interesting, Relena decided. It wasn't unusual for large corporations to pool resources for charity events, but it was odd for two competing companies like Kiba and Winner to do so.

"Did you meet Satoshi Kiba?" Heero asked. Faith nodded.

"Both he and Mr. Winner were there," she said. "I liked Mr. Winner a lot. Mr. Kiba was kind of creepy, though. He was nice, but it was like a stranger with candy kind of nice."

Relena snorted. She hadn't seen Satoshi Kiba in quite that light before, but now that Faith mentioned it she couldn't get rid of the mental image. It did fit him somehow. He had been overly attentive the few times she'd met him. She'd brushed it off—a lot of people acted like that around her—but it had been bothersome.

"Sorry," she said, realizing everyone was staring. "I get that feeling from him, too. Go on, Faith. Did he say anything to you?"

"He talked to me at the reception they held after awards ceremony," Faith replied. "He said I really took after my dad. I assumed he just meant Duo because everybody says that about us—it's the hair—but now I'm not so sure. Looking back on it, I think he was hinting at something else. And I think Mr. Winner got it, too, because he seemed really surprised."

_Quatre would have gotten that_, Relena thought. And, knowing Quatre, he would have done some investigating on his own afterward. You didn't get to be the head of one of the largest corporations in existence without learning how to follow your instincts.

"We should see what Quatre knows," Heero said, giving voice to Relena's thoughts. Trowa nodded.

"He's probably on Earth now, actually," Relena said, getting up and going over to the datebook she kept by the phone. "Kiba's holding a charity event tomorrow night at the Platinum Oaks Hotel. Quatre couldn't rope any of his sisters into accompanying him, so I agreed to be his date for the evening."

She found the invitation that she'd tucked between the pages of her datebook and flashed it at everyone else, smiling brilliantly. It was nice to be useful—and nicer still to see the surprise on Heero's face.

"So," she said. "What's the plan? Don't think you're leaving me out this time, Heero—I'm not going to sit on the sidelines when so much is at stake."

* * *

><p>Notes: So...Yeah. I think it's fairly obvious at this point that Faith doesn't get bored-she gets creative. I know this is a short chapter, but it feels complete so I'm leaving it. But just so it doesn't look like I'm slacking, check out my other story, Behind the Scenes, for a oneshot about that photograph. :D<p>

And, as always, thanks so much for all of the reviews, alerts, favorites, etc! I can't believe this story has over 100 reviews now. You guys ROCK!


	23. Chapter 23

Faith sat stiffly in her desk chair as Lucy added a few final touches to her makeup. She'd never in her life felt so much like a porcelain doll, and she wasn't sure she liked all the attention.

Her dad was no help.

"I make people nervous on a good day," he'd said that morning, flashing her a smirk that was pure evil as he threw her words back at her. "Today isn't a good day."

And then he'd taken Gio and left, stranding Faith with her mom and Lucy. It had been a relief to get home, away from the seamstresses, hair stylists, and that horrible woman with the eyebrow wax.

At least it was almost over. Faith had been plucked, polished, and henpecked enough for one day. When Lucy finished fussing over her eyeshadow, she could put on her dress and _hope_ that she didn't still look like a boy in drag.

It was hard enough being short for her age. Being skinny and flat-chested only made things that much worse.

"Okay," Lucy said, holding up a mirror. "What do you think?"

Faith examined herself carefully and sighed.

"I look like Dad. With pink lipstick," she said, pouting a little. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be ungrateful—you did the best you could. I think femininity's just lost on me, Aunt Lucy."

Lucy squeezed her shoulder gently. "You'll get there," she said. "Some of it will have to wait for the hormones to kick in, but most of it is attitude. And I know you've got plenty of _that_."

Faith let out a short burst of laughter. Lucy was right, she realized—even if she didn't look like much, she knew how to talk the talk.

She went to her closet and took the blue dress down from its hanger. It was a doll's dress, made from some soft, shimmery material, and while it didn't fit her as well as she'd like, the color matched her eyes and the skirt was full enough that she could run in it if she had to.

There was a good chance she'd need to run if their plan failed. If her dad was right and Kiba really was backing the Red Fang, they were walking into a room full of wolves—and she was the bait.

It frightened her, in a way that she'd never been frightened before. If she'd only been able to dress herself, to put on her own style of clothing and makeup and accessories, she might feel a bit better, a bit more like herself. But the face in the mirror was a doll's face, and Faith felt small and brittle and not at all in charge of her own life.

It didn't have to be that way. Faith could have refused. No one would have looked down on her for being less than courageous. But that wasn't the way Faith did things. She wanted to be in charge of her own fate, and if that meant letting her mom and her aunt turn her into a thin, painted shell of herself, well, so be it.

Her dad hadn't liked the idea of bringing her along to the fundraiser, but Trowa had eventually worn him down. Faith closed her eyes, remembering.

"_Think about it, Heero," Trowa said. "If Kiba is after Faith, it's unlikely that they'll harm her at one of their own events. Especially so soon after the incident on the colony—Kiba is denying any involvement in the bombings, but the chemicals used in the fertilizer bombs were their property. Their shares are down, and they can't afford more bad press right now."_

_Faith sat quietly at the table, watching her dad's face go from steel to stone. The change was subtle, but he was obviously unhappy._

"_No," he said. "Even if no one sets off a bomb or pulls a gun, it would be easy to lure her off to some secluded place and abduct her from there. Faith is too immature to pull this off."_

_Faith glowered, but didn't say anything. Her dad was underestimating her, and speaking up would only prove that she was as immature as he said. Remaining silent was a gamble, but she had Trowa on her side and he was always a safe bet. _

_Trowa pulled a necklace out of his shirt pocket and held it up for everyone to see. It was a men's cross pendant on a thick steel chain. The bottom piece of the pendant was stainless steel, and the top was plated in chocolate gold; Faith's name was stamped down the center in bold capitals, and she realized that it was the present Dak had mentioned earlier. Maggie was always buying her stuff with her name on it; she thought it was hilarious. Faith thought it was annoying._

"_This is a tracking device," Trowa said. "The software will run on your mobile phone; I already have a copy installed on mine. If the Red Fang should abduct Faith we can follow them to their hideout, wherever it is, and we'll have them."_

_Faith could see that neither of her parents was comfortable with the idea of just letting the Red Fang abduct her. Her mom was clearly horrified. Her dad was less open about it, but his jaw was tight and his eyes narrowed._

_Faith took the cross from Trowa and slipped the chain over her head. It was long enough that she could hide the pendant under her shirt—out of sight, out of mind. The heavy thing didn't suit her, and she wasn't particularly religious. She didn't want to deal with the questions that nosy people would ask._

"_Fay—" her mom started. Faith shot her a look, cutting her off._

_She met her dad's eyes. He was the one she'd have to convince—and, so far at least, he seemed to be the exception to most of the things Hilde had taught her about stubborn men. She'd have to rely on her emotions. If Faith wanted to convince her dad of anything, she had to do it by following _his_ rules._

"_I'm tired of hiding," she said. "I'd rather die tomorrow than live out the rest of my life in fear."_

_He nodded. "I understand."_

It hadn't been any false bravado; Faith had meant every word. But she was still afraid—not of dying, but of screwing up the plan and letting everyone else down.

The bedroom door creaked and Faith opened her eyes, meeting her dad's stare.

"I know we've covered this, Dad. You're supposed to knock," she said, keeping her words and her eyes cold, trying to hide her fear. He'd make her stay home if he saw it. "I'm trying to get dressed here. Jeez."

"It's not like it's anything I haven't seen before," he replied.

Faith couldn't quite suppress an indignant squeak, and that only seemed to amuse him. It didn't help that Lucy was laughing, too.

"That's not the point!" she argued, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. "Get out of my room! And fix your tie—it's crooked."

"Don't yell," he muttered. "Relena's looking for you, Lucy. I don't know what she wants—she wouldn't tell me."

Faith thought she knew, but she didn't say anything. They'd stopped at a jeweler's shop that afternoon and her mom had ducked in long enough to pick up a small package. Lucy had stashed it in her purse for safekeeping and, as far as Faith knew, it was still there.

"Right," Lucy murmured. "I'll go check on her in a minute."

She leaned down and pretended to fix Faith's hair. "Don't bother him about his tie," she whispered. "He does it on purpose, so he can steal a kiss when Relena fixes it for him."

"I heard that," he grumbled. Faith suppressed a giggle, knowing that it would turn to full-blown hysteria if she wasn't careful. It was just—so corny, like something Duo would do.

"I don't hear you denying it," Lucy replied, giving up on Faith's hair and standing back up. "You'll be okay on your own, right Faith?"

"I'll be fine," Faith replied. "I think I can manage a zipper by myself."

She glanced from her aunt to her dad, neither of whom seemed to be in a particular hurry to leave, and finally decided to get dressed in the closet.

She'd throw up if she changed in the bathroom. She knew it.

* * *

><p>"Holy crap," Heero muttered, borrowing one of Faith's favorite epithets. "Gio, what are you doing?"<p>

"I'm Santa Claus."

Heero made a face, although he was glad that Gio had only found the shaving cream and not, say, the knife he'd left on the dresser or the gun in his nightstand. He should have known better than to leave the five-year-old unsupervised, even for just a minute, when he went to get Lucy for Relena.

It wasn't like Relena couldn't have walked across the hall and gotten Lucy herself. Heero was procrastinating and he knew it. He didn't like Faith's willingness to put herself in danger—and he didn't like how easily he'd gone along with the plan.

The event was a fundraiser on behalf of one of Kiba's Earth branch employees, whose eight-year-old daughter had leukemia. It was one of those themed parties—this time it was karaoke, because the girl loved music—and was being billed as family-friendly.

The plan was simple. Bring Faith along and see if anyone threatened her. The Red Fang had assaulted Faith in public before; if Kiba was involved, someone would probably try to go after her. But this time, they'd find themselves trapped. It had been disgustingly easy to put it all together, too.

Sally was the sick girl's primary care physician; she'd been invited to speak about the girl's condition and Wufei was coming as her escort. Quatre was on the guest list for unknown reasons, but he'd been happy to go along with the plan once he'd been filled in. Trowa was part of Quatre's security detail—he'd recognize any of the suspects that had escaped from the colony, should they show at the party tonight, and he had warrants to take them in for questioning.

If four former gundam pilots, a half-dozen Maguanacs, and Relena's security team couldn't protect one teenage girl for an evening, nothing could. And if things went badly, hey, they had a doctor on-site.

Somehow, that last part wasn't reassuring. Maybe it wasn't too late to come up with a different plan. One that didn't involve Faith being present at the fundraiser.

"Uncle Heero?"

"What?" Heero glanced down when Gio tugged on his pants leg.

"Ho ho ho?" Gio asked hopefully.

"Christmas was in December, Gio," he said calmly, reminding himself that this mess was _his_ fault—partly for shaving in front of the kid and partly for leaving him alone in his room. "It's March now."

Gio was undeterred. "That's okay," he replied. "Mom says you should be good all year round. Not just at Christmas."

"This doesn't look very good to me," Heero said. Gio pouted.

The kid was covered in foam, and he'd gotten it all over the floor and the bathroom counter, too—but a little bit of shaving cream was a lot better than a trip to the emergency room when there was so much that still needed doing.

And it was kind of funny.

"Want to do me a favor?" he asked, going to where he'd hung his jacket and rifling through the pockets until he found the bugged device Faith was supposed to wear.

"Okay," Gio replied.

"Give this to Faith," he said, handing Gio the little box. "You can tell her it's a Christmas present if you want."

Faith liked Gio. She'd probably play along, at least long enough for Heero to go over his Glock one last time and find his good shoes. He needed to grab the receiver that went along with Faith's transmitter, too. With luck, nobody would notice the little earpiece. Or if they did, they'd think it was part of Relena's security measures.

"It's a good present," Gio decided, inspecting the box. "It's all wrapped up and everything."

Instead of immediately running off to see Faith, as Heero had expected, Gio sat on the floor and pulled off one of his shoes and his sock. He crammed the box into his sock, shoved his bare foot back into the shoe, and slung the sock over his shoulder before dashing across the hall and barging into Faith's room.

"Dad—_yeek_! Gio! Holy _crap! _What are you _doing_?"

"I'm Santa Claus. I brung you a present, Fay. Merry Christmas!"

Heero closed the door and laughed into his fist. He wasn't sure which was better—Gio's enthusiasm or Faith's surprisingly girlish shriek. Either way, now that Gio was out of the room, Heero could finish getting ready in peace. He wouldn't procrastinate anymore; he'd never been one to back down from a fight, and now was not a good time to start.

* * *

><p>It was kind of funny once the initial shock wore off. Faith was having a hard time keeping a straight face around her cousin, who'd covered his entire head in shaving cream and crammed who-knew-what down the front of his shirt to give himself a belly.<p>

"You're a hoot, Gio," she said, grabbing a towel out of the bathroom and wiping off the worst of the foam before he could get it all over her too-pretty doll's dress.

"No," Gio replied. "I'm Santa. Don't you want your present?"

"I'm not sure," Faith said, dubiously eyeing Gio's bulging sock-slash-sack of goodies. "What is it?"

Gio shrugged. "Uncle Heero said give it to you."

"Right," Faith muttered, taking the sock from Gio and retrieving the little box. There was a pin inside, a delicate swirl of silver wire with a pea-sized pearl at its center. Faith turned it over, saw the electronics, and realized that it was the listening device she was supposed to wear to the fundraiser. She pinned it onto her dress and posed for Gio, like she might have posed for Maggie and Lexi at home. "How do I look?"

"Like Cinderella," he replied solemnly. "But you need a crown. Cinderella had a crown and a blue dress."

Faith giggled. "I'm no princess," she told Gio. "But I'm glad you think I look like one."

At least _he_ hadn't said she looked like a doll. That would have been creepy.

It gave her an idea, at least. She was afraid of what might happen tonight. But if she went in with a smile on her lips and her head held high, at least no one else would know how frightened she was. Her mother had been a princess once—Faith had seen the videos of the former Queen of the World—and she had handled worse situations with a grace that belied her youth. Faith might not be a princess, and she was definitely not her mother, but she could damn well play the part.

She'd rather be a princess, and in charge of her own destiny, than a frilly little doll that someone else controlled.

"Thank you, Gio," she said, lightly touching the pin. "Now. Let's get you cleaned up before your mom sees all this and you get in trouble."

* * *

><p>Heero sat at the kitchen table, waiting for everyone else and testing the listening device Faith was wearing. It seemed to be working, but he'd wait and see what happened once they got to the party. There was no telling what background noise might do to it, after all.<p>

Lucy leaned against the counter, silently examining Relena's camera. They didn't speak. Heero was comfortable with silence; it was easier than trying to make small talk.

"That looks like the worst of it," Faith said, her voice a little staticky over the transmitter. "Your hair's all messed up, but there's nothing we can do about it now."

"I won't get in trouble?" Gio asked.

"I dunno," Faith replied. "I think that's up to your mom. Come on—I bet everybody's already waiting for us."

Heero shut off his earpiece when he heard Faith's bedroom door open and close down the hall. There was no reason to waste the battery when they could talk face-to-face.

The kids pushed through the swinging door. Gio's dark hair stuck up stiffly at odd angles, but that was the only sign that he'd been up to anything. Lucy shot him a suspicious look, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Sorry we took so long," Faith said.

She was smiling softly and she seemed more at ease than Heero would have thought. It was her life on the line tonight, after all, if things went badly. But the set of her shoulders and her clenched fist told Heero that she wasn't as relaxed as she seemed.

He was relieved. Fear could be healthy sometimes, as long as you didn't let it rule you. If nothing else, it reminded you of your limits.

Soft footsteps on the carpet told Heero that Relena was finally ready. Faith must have heard it, too; she gently pulled Gio back from the door just as it opened.

"Relena."

He'd never seen her wear red to a public event before. She preferred pastels and modest, understated cuts, and the dress she had on was neither of those things. Everything about it, from the bold color to the way it hugged her curves, was designed to draw the eye.

It worked a little too well. If they'd been alone, the dress would have been on its way to the floor and they would have been _very_ late to the fundraiser. If they made it at all.

"You look—nice."

_Nice. How lame. _Relena raised an eyebrow, but at least she didn't question his word choice in front of everyone else.

"Heero," she murmured. "You look ridiculous. Fix your tie; we don't have time for games tonight."

He nodded numbly—he'd hoped their old routine would at least make her smile—and got up to find a mirror. Faith intercepted him, smiling softly.

"I've got it, Dad," she said. It was strange, though, being so close to her—he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and smell the perfume that she'd "borrowed" from Relena—and he wondered why it was so uncomfortable.

He'd always been uncomfortable around strangers, though. _Maybe we've just been apart too long_, he decided. He held still until she finished and took a half-step back to admire her handiwork.

"There," she said. "Perfect."

He wasn't expecting her to step back into him and kiss his cheek—but neither was anyone else. Lucy hit the shutter on the camera, accidentally snapping a picture of her own foot. Relena merely smiled.

"Take a _real_ picture, Aunt Lucy," Faith said, laughing and darting over to stand on Heero's right side. "Dad said he wanted a recent one. Come on, Mom. You, too."

Relena looked at them thoughtfully for a moment before joining them. Heero shot her a look when she kissed his cheek, but she only turned to face the camera and smile. Heero smiled, too—because Faith would pester him if he didn't—and held still until the camera flashed.

"I think this is going to be a keeper," Lucy said, looking at the camera's screen. Faith darted over to see, and laughed delightedly when Lucy showed her.

"Definitely," she agreed.

"Email me a copy?" Relena asked as she shrugged into her coat. "Come on—we really have to go. The car is ready and everyone's waiting for us."

Heero let Relena usher him toward the front door; Lucy would make at least one printout and he could see the picture later. He checked the mirror in the atrium to make sure Faith hadn't done anything _creative_ to his tie—and stopped.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered.

There was a shimmery pink blotch on one side of his face. And a scarlet one on the other. Heero rolled his eyes and wiped the lipstick off with his fingers while Faith and Relena laughed. Knowing Lucy, it was too late to get the camera—she'd already hidden it. He sighed.

"Women."

* * *

><p>Notes: One last fun chapter before we go back to intrigue and action. I had considered cutting this one because it doesn't really add much, but I finally decided to keep it because I had already written all but the last couple of paragraphs, lol.<p>

As always, thank you all SOO much for the reviews, messages, alerts, favorites, etc. It's all so encouraging.


	24. Chapter 24

Faith wanted to stare at her surroundings in wide-eyed wonder. Everything sparkled, from the gleaming ballroom floor to the tinsel decorations hung from the ceiling. Even the people, dressed for the occasion as they were, seemed a little more polished. She didn't stare, though. She smiled politely instead, and tried not to blink too much when cameras flashed in her face. Luckily, the cameras weren't pointed at her—everyone bustled around her, trying to get her mom's attention.

Relena was a shining beacon even in the midst of so much decadence. It was something Faith didn't think she'd ever be able to attain, a general good-naturedness that just seemed to radiate from her mom. Everyone visibly relaxed under her gaze, smiled at her smile and, in Faith's eyes, sparkled just a bit more after a simple handshake or a soft-spoken hello.

Faith hung back with her dad, a little in awe. He seemed to understand; after a few moments he took her arm and guided her off to one side, where Wufei was standing, looking uncomfortable in his suit.

"Winner and Barton aren't here yet," Wufei said, instead of a normal greeting. "Security's lighter than I expected, too."

He shot a glance at Faith and added, "Len's around here somewhere. He ran off with some girl as soon as we got here. Some school friend or another. You probably know her."

"Probably," Faith replied evenly. There weren't many girls at Dalton. The hard sciences just didn't appeal to many females, and the admissions process was ridiculously biased.

"Hn," her dad grunted, glancing across the room, no doubt looking for trouble.

Faith didn't say anything else. She clutched the silly little purse her mom had pushed on her and tried to keep a little distance between herself and her dad—she did have an image to uphold, after all. It wouldn't do for people to think she was some kind of spoiled daddy's girl. She was afraid of what might happen tonight, though, and that made it hard to stay too far away. Even with the issues between them, she knew he'd keep her safe.

Faith hated the anxiety that she couldn't seem to shake. It threatened to ruin her princess act, which, she was forced to admit, hadn't been all that solid to begin with. Faith just wasn't a princess. She could be diplomatic, even tactful, when it suited her, but she tended more toward openness and blunt honesty—and she honestly didn't like this party.

She particularly didn't like the icy blonde who was hanging all over Len.

_Selda_, she thought disgustedly._ Bitch._

Len glanced toward his dad and waved. Faith waved back, half-heartedly. Selda looked up then, to see who had drawn Len's attention from her; her dark eyes narrowed slightly in recognition, and then she smiled sweetly. Unlike Faith, Selda was an excellent liar.

They started toward her, and Faith unconsciously braced herself. She felt her dad's eyes on her and forced her knees to unlock, her fists to unclench. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of him.

"Hello, Faith," Selda purred.

"Hi, Selda," Faith murmured. "Len."

_Please leave now_, she thought. _Before I say something I shouldn't. I really, really hate you, Selda. And right now I hate you, too, Len._

But he was the sort of boy who couldn't help turning to mush when a girl noticed him. Faith knew that—it had happened with Marilou Brenner, it had happened with Angie Polk, hell, it had even happened with _her_ and she'd never deliberately encouraged him. And now it was happening with Selda.

Faith wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. Chris had gotten tangled up with Selda before she'd been expelled from Dalton. It hadn't been pretty.

"You look lovely, Faith!" Selda exclaimed, leaning in for an air-hug that Faith tolerated but didn't return. "Where _did_ you get that dress? It looks just like the one I talked Arielle out of—blue just isn't her color, and that cut would have made her look like a tomboy."

The claws were out, it seemed. Somehow, Faith wasn't surprised.

"Be nice, Selda," Len said. "Don't tell me you're still pissed at Faith for breaking your nose. You did tell her to hit you with her best shot."

_Wow_, Faith thought, taking in Selda's shocked look with a smile. _Lenny's grown a spine. When did that happen?_

"Mmm," Selda purred, looking at Len but speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I guess I should have expected her to hit like a boy. She certainly _looks_ enough like one. It's a shame, really—get her out of those mechanic's coveralls and she's almost cute. She's like the little China doll my sister used to keep on her dresser. Before I dropped it."

Faith felt a blush creep over her cheeks at that one. Nobody else said anything, though. Len had apparently given up, and Wufei and her dad were just watching. Faith didn't think they'd step in unless things got physical. And that was _so_ not happening tonight.

At the same time, Faith wasn't about to let this witch walk all over her. Selda didn't deserve the upper hand.

"Tell you what," Faith said sweetly, taking a page out of Selda's book and speaking loudly enough that everyone could hear. "I'll tell you where I got my dress if _you _tell _me _where you got your nose fixed. Did it come free with the boob job? I'm surprised you couldn't afford a better surgeon, Selda—just between us, they're a little lopsided."

Selda gasped, and the fury was plain on her pale face. Faith turned on her heel and stalked off, determined to have the last word. She didn't want to see the look on her dad's face, either—something told her that he was _not_ going to be happy when he caught up with her.

* * *

><p>Heero signaled one of Relena's guards to keep an eye on Faith—knowing her, she was headed for the ladies room—and fixed the other kids with a cold stare.<p>

Selda Brisher was one of Satoshi Kiba's granddaughters. The other granddaughter, Arielle, was over by the stage, playing hostess with her grandfather. As a security measure, the girls were rarely allowed to appear in public together; Satoshi feared losing both of his heirs to a single incident, as he had lost his daughter and son-in-law when Libra went down during the war. Selda looked different than she had in the Preventers' file photo, and Heero realized that Faith had been right about the plastic surgery.

She regained her composure quickly, tossing her hair and sending one last glare in the direction Faith had gone.

"Somebody needs to teach that girl some manners," she complained. "Honestly."

Heero didn't have anything to say to that. Faith wasn't the only one who needed to learn how to behave in public. But Len didn't have a problem pointing it out.

"Somebody—meaning you?" Len asked, grinning. "That didn't go down so well last time you tried it. You can't tell me you don't remember being elbowed in the face. I was there—and that looked like it hurt."

"You could have stood up for me," she griped. "Act like a man for once, Len."

"I don't think so, Selda. First of all, you're not my girlfriend. Or even my friend. I'm not going to defend you when you're the one starting problems," Len said. "And second, there's no way I'm getting in the middle of a catfight. It's way more fun to watch, especially since my new phone takes video."

"Jerk!"

Selda stormed off, thankfully not in the direction Faith had gone.

Wufei raised an eyebrow at his son. "I thought you were going to get some information out of her," he said. "You can't treat your sources like that and expect them to remain reliable."

"I did get information," Len replied. "This is the first time Selda's been out of their compound since her surgery. Partly because it takes a while to recover from something like that, and partly because Grandpa's not too happy with her right now. He was okay with her getting her nose fixed after Fay broke it—she needed it—but he was furious about the rest."

Selda's school records had been part of her file—she had attended Dalton briefly as part of a student exchange program, but had been expelled after violating the academy's sexual harassment policies. Heero didn't recall reading anything about a fight, but he had only skimmed over the record.

"It's unlikely that Selda has anything to do with the attacks on Faith unless it's behind the scenes, then," Wufei said. "She could still be helping them plan."

"You told your kid about this?" Heero asked, uncomfortable with discussing Faith's case in such a public place.

Wufei shrugged. "He already knew Selda. And I don't want to be seen talking to her—she has a reputation for getting involved with older men and then blackmailing them or turning them in for harassment. But she's older than Len, and he doesn't have anything to offer her, so I didn't think she'd try anything with him."

"Please," Len said. "Give me a little credit. I have no intention of going where _every_ man has gone before. No thanks."

"Hn," Heero muttered. That was too much information. He couldn't blame Wufei for wanting to avoid the girl; he wasn't going to let himself get caught alone with her either—he had enough problems without some misguided teenager using him to get attention.

"What else do you know about this girl?" he asked Len.

"Selda started at the beginning of last term—she was Faith's lab partner before me, actually—and she left at the beginning of this term," Len said. "She shouldn't have been at Dalton at all; unlike a lot of other places, you really have to have brains if you want to succeed. Forget what you heard about a student exchange. Her granddad bought her way in. She's supposed to inherit some kind of mining operation, and he wanted to make sure she understood enough about the science behind the process to be an effective manager. He would have been better off sending her to business school and leaving the mining to people with the capacity to understand basic chemistry."

"Is it just me, or are all the kids at Dalton snobs?" Wufei asked.

Heero shrugged. "They'll learn," he said. "The bigger the ego, the harder the fall. It'll be fun to watch when they get older."

"Do you want to hear the rest of this or not?" Len asked. "Because the brunette over by the speakers is really cute. If you guys are just going to stand around and make fun of me, I'm going to get her phone number and you can get your own information."

Heero glanced over at the girl, idly wondering how the war would have ended if he'd been that fickle as a teenager. Relena wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him, that was certain. But he wasn't going to tell Len how to live his life—some lessons had to be learned the hard way.

"That's Selda's sister, Arielle," Heero said. "From what I've heard, Kiba keeps her under his thumb, to the extent that she doesn't even speak much English. I hope you speak Japanese."

"You know, I think I'm good here after all," Len said thoughtfully. "Where were we? Oh. Right. Faith hates Selda. Like, _really_ hates her. I don't know what happened between them, because Fay's usually pretty easygoing, but Selda's lucky Faith didn't break more than just her nose."

Heero wasn't sure he wanted to know how that happened. It didn't seem important in the long run and, from the looks of things, it had happened so long ago that Duo had probably already taken care of it.

"I have a video of that if you want to see it," Len offered, fishing his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. "Dak was testing his new camera when it happened and I had him send me a copy. It was awesome."

There was a commotion near the door; cameras flashed madly and the noise level rose several decibels as reporters who'd shown up to cover the event tried to shout questions over each other.

Wufei made a face. "Winner's here," he said.

"I'll be there in a minute," Heero said, taking the phone from Len. It was only a thirty-second video, and Wufei could fill Quatre and Trowa in on the details while he was busy.

* * *

><p>Faith stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, willing herself not to cry and ruin her makeup. Caroline, one of her mom's security guards, waited patiently nearby.<p>

"What a bitch," Caroline said. "She reminds me of this girl I knew back in high school. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with her past junior year. She got pregnant, dropped out, and—last I heard—got stuck working nights at a gas station."

"That sucks," Faith said, feeling a little sorry for the girl. "This really was my fault. I shouldn't let Selda get to me like that. There's no way Dad isn't mad at me for that one. I'm just glad Mom didn't hear."

Faith walked away from her reflection and settled herself gingerly on the couch. She'd given up on pretending to be a princess, but that was no reason to ruin her hairstyle by sitting on it.

"Don't worry about it," Caroline replied. "You're a teenager; your parents expect a little rebellion from time to time. Give it a year and your dad won't even remember this."

"Heh," Faith muttered. She'd still remember. Selda had never been a friend, but things hadn't started getting really nasty until January, when she'd started picking on Maggie. Faith closed her eyes and let the memory hit her like a wave; she couldn't swim, so she just let it come.

_January 12, AC 215_

"_Fay!" Maggie protested. "All you ever do is study and work on that ugly shuttle with Dak. I know you're not like those other boring-ass Dalton nerds. Come on—come out with Jane and me tonight. We're going to see that new car-chase movie."_

_Faith sighed. "It was the first day of school, and I have a crapload of homework, Maggie," she said. "Not to mention Hilde's at the doctor again and I'm in charge of dinner. Maybe this weekend."_

_Maggie just didn't get it; Dalton wasn't like public school—it was competitive, and it wasn't easy to get by. It was harder still with the situation at home. Hilde spent two weeks out of every month in the hospital undergoing aggressive chemotherapy, and _somebody_ had to take care of the house while she was gone. _

"_Right," Maggie sighed. "What if I fix dinner while you do your homework? We can have Lexi in bed by eight and be at the movies by eight-fifteen."_

"_What about Jane?" Faith asked, raising an eyebrow. No way would Jane's parents let her out that late. They were uncomfortable enough with Maggie as it was._

"_Screw Jane," Maggie said cheerfully, throwing an arm over Faith's shoulders and pulling her into an awkward hug. "You deserve a night on the town every once in a while."_

_Faith shook her head, smiling. A crappy action flick was hardly a night on the town, but it sure beat a night of cooking, cleaning and homework. Duo wouldn't mind. Faith had racked up enough brownie points by taking care of the house and babysitting that he'd probably let her get away with murder by now._

"_Okay," Faith agreed reluctantly. "But—"_

_Catcalls erupted from a nearby café. Faith scowled at the sidewalk as they passed, cheeks flaming. Everybody knew Maggie was out of the closet—that didn't bother Faith, she and Maggie had been friends long enough that the revelation hadn't even been a surprise—but Faith didn't like the bullying that came along with it, or the way people assumed that the two of them were more than just friends._

"_Sorry, Fay," Maggie mumbled, releasing Faith from her impromptu hug. _

"_It isn't your fault. You shouldn't have to apologize for being yourself," she said. "Selda's the one with the problem. Let's just keep walking."_

_Her frown turned to a scowl when she saw Chris sitting at Selda's table. At least he had the decency to look ashamed, even if he wasn't man enough to stand up for them. _

"_Hey!" _

_Faith rolled her eyes. Of course. Selda wasn't the type to just let things go. She'd been happy with just teasing for a while, but lately things seemed to be coming to a head. Faith wondered how much longer it would be before things turned into more than simple shouting matches._

"_Hey! I'm talking to you, Faith Maxwell," Selda called, getting up from the table and walking over. _

"_Selda—" Chris started. He sank back into his chair when Faith shot him a dirty look; he'd had his chance to speak up and he hadn't taken it. Too bad for him._

"_What do you want, Selda?" Faith demanded, knowing full well that Selda just wanted attention. It didn't matter where it came from or how she got it—Selda just wanted to be noticed. _

_Selda smiled. "I want to know how a dyke like your little friend here_ _fell for a she-male like you," she said, stepping into Faith's personal space. "You _talk_ like a boy, you _act _like a boy—I bet you even piss like a boy. If it wasn't for all that hair, I would have thought you _were_ one. You don't have a boyfriend, either. Are you a dyke, too?"_

"_You know what they say, Selda," Faith replied, trembling with fury. "It takes one to know one. Why don't we find out?"_

_Faith didn't take the time to think—if she had, she would have chickened out. She grabbed the front of Selda's shirt, stepped forward, and kissed her. Hard. Selda's friends gasped; Chris let out a horrified groan._

"_Well, _you_ certainly don't turn me on," Faith said, pulling away and shoving Selda so hard that she fell on her ass. "Cut the crap, Selda. If you ever—_ever—_ call me a dyke again, I'm going to hurt you."_

_Selda's face was ugly with hate, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. Faith stared her down a second longer before turning to Maggie._

"_Let's go home," she said. "I think I need some mouthwash."_

"_I'll say," Maggie muttered. "Jeez—"_

"No, Mommy, I don't want it!"

A child's protest startled Faith back into the present. It was a pleasure, really—Faith didn't want to flash back to the next day, when she'd busted Selda in the face during gym. It was not her proudest moment. She let out her breath in a soft whoosh and slowly opened her eyes.

"It's yucky."

The little girl was sickly, balding, and pale; her face was puffy from crying and she sounded congested, too. Faith recognized her from the posters that had been tacked up in the ballroom; this fundraiser was for her.

"Emily. You _have_ to take your medicine or you won't get any better. I know it's yucky, baby, but it's the only way you'll get over this mess."

Faith recognized Emily's mom, too. Ellen Carter was on TV all the time, playing a mom who kept her family healthy by feeding them Kiba's hydroponically grown fruits and vegetables. Frankly, Faith was surprised that the woman couldn't afford to pay for her daughter's medical care on her own. _Maybe Dad was right and this really is just a publicity stunt, _Faith thought._ But I still feel bad for that sick little girl._

"No," Emily complained. "I just want to go home. I don't want people to see me like this."

Emily didn't look that bad, really. Faith bit her lip, wondering if she should say anything. She sighed when the first tear rolled down Emily's cheek. _Dad's gonna kill me_, she thought as she extracted her tablet from the clutch purse.

"Here." It had taken a second's work to wake up the tablet and find the picture she wanted. Faith handed it to Emily and waited a moment.

"That's my best friend, Maggie," she said. "She was eight and I was nine. Look familiar?"

Emily sniffled. "She has cancer, too?"

"She did," Faith replied, taking her tablet back and flicking over to a different photo. "Check it out. She took all her medicine and she got better. That was a year later—we were nine and ten. It was right after her hair started growing back in."

"Look at that, Em," Ellen said. "See what happens when you take your medicine?"

"She really got better?" Emily asked, looking up at Faith with irresistible puppy-dog eyes.

Faith nodded. "She has to go back every once in a while for checkups, just to make sure it isn't coming back, but Maggie's better now. You'd never know she had leukemia just by looking at her. Maggie's kind of a nut."

Faith skipped forward again, to the most recent picture she had. It was just of Maggie—it was from after Faith had decided she didn't like keeping pictures of herself around—and Maggie was wearing her pajamas and still tousled from sleep.

"Okay, so that isn't the best picture," Faith admitted. "But you get the idea, right?"

Emily nodded. "That's really your friend?" she asked, taking the tablet from Faith and going back to the second picture. "And that was really you? It doesn't look like you. What happened to your beauty spot?"

Faith frowned. "My what?"

"She's wearing concealer," Ellen explained to her daughter. "You can still kind of see it if you look closely."

"Oh," Faith said. "_That_. I wouldn't exactly call it a beauty spot. It's just a mole."

Faith hated the dark spot on her left cheekbone. It was just a little dot, hardly bigger than the tip of a blunt pencil, but it irked her to no end and she covered it up whenever she got the chance.

Ellen shook her head. "It's beautiful," she said. "It's the kind of thing that sets you apart from others. It makes you special."

"If you say so," Faith replied, making a face. "But I don't think we're here to talk about me. Are you ready to take that medicine now, kiddo?"

Emily nodded reluctantly. "But I still want to go home," she said. "I'm all sniffly and my throat hurts, and I can't sing. They promised I could have the first song, but now I can't."

Ellen took advantage of Emily's improved spirits and presented her with a handful of pills and a bottle of water from her purse. Like Hilde, Emily took all of the pills in one big mouthful, the sooner to get it all said and done. Faith couldn't watch. She concentrated on jamming her tablet back into the tiny purse instead.

"Are karaoke parties popular on Earth, too?" Faith asked. "They're a huge fad in space right now, too. Everything twentieth-century is really big."

"Yeah," Ellen said. "It's always something, isn't it? I wonder what they're going to come up with next."

"You like karaoke, too?" Emily asked. Faith nodded. "Do you want to sing for me? Since you showed me your pictures, I'll let you have my turn."

_Dad is _so _going to kill me,_ Faith thought, rising from the couch and taking Emily's hand. _But, then again, I am supposed to be drawing attention to myself. If the Red Fang is here, they won't be able to miss _this_._

"I'll sing for you," she said. "But you have to pick the song."

* * *

><p>Notes: Yeah. I don't know <em>where <em>that flashback came from. I had originally planned to write the scene where Faith broke Selda's nose...But this seems to fit better for some reason. It's certainly less predictable, isn't it? Heh.

With any luck, it won't take as long to write the next chapter. But let me know what you think about this one, okay? :D

As always, I want to thank everyone who's reading this. I love all of the comments, favorites, etc. It's great!


	25. Chapter 25

"The plan is simple," Heero said, letting the ambient noise cover his speech so no one could eavesdrop on them—everyone but Len could read lips, and Len didn't need the details. "Faith is going to wander around and let people approach her. If anyone tries to lure her away, she'll go with them. We'll follow. She's wearing a tracking device, so we'll be able to find her, even if they get her to a car and drive off."

"That's awfully dangerous," Quatre said, frowning. Heero nodded.

"Faith understands the risks," he replied. "If necessary, she should be able to defend herself for a few minutes. She's tougher than she looks."

"Where is she now?" Trowa asked. He stood a pace or two behind Quatre, acting as a bodyguard, and his disguise was so good that Heero almost hadn't recognized him.

"Bathroom," Heero replied.

Faith was too far out of range for the voice transmitter to work, so Heero couldn't listen in on what she was doing. She had been gone a while, and it took effort to stay put and not go looking for her. She was being looked after; barging into the ladies' room would only cause a scene, and Relena was too busy to go herself.

"Alone?"

Heero shook his head. "One of Relena's guards is with her, and another is waiting outside. They'll call if there's trouble. Faith is—in a mood tonight."

"That's one way of putting it," Wufei muttered. "Damn women. It's always something."

Heero rolled his eyes. There was no safe way to respond to that. If he agreed, Relena would kill him when she found out. If he disagreed, Wufei would tell him he was whipped. And while that was probably true, there was no way he was going to admit it out loud. No, it was best to steer clear of the topic altogether. Particularly since Relena had spotted him and was working her way over.

"We should split up and take our seats for now," he said, wrapping his arm around Relena's waist when she reached his side. He didn't care if the public display bothered people—she was _his_, and damn if he wasn't going to make sure everybody knew it.

Especially with that dress she had on. No, Heero definitely did not want anyone getting any ideas tonight.

Luckily, his friends were understanding. They were all separating, going off to find their places. Things would be starting soon and it wouldn't look good if they were caught socializing too much. If the Red Fang was planning anything tonight, Heero didn't want them to see a handful of known Preventer agents plotting together and decide to scrap their agenda.

"Where are we sitting?" he asked Relena, pulling her close and pressing a kiss against her hair just as a photographer snapped a picture.

"Melissa's at our table," she said.

Heero spotted Relena's publicist and grimaced. Of course the witch would be here tonight. Somebody had to handle the press. He walked Relena over and pulled out a chair for her, even though she usually preferred to do it herself. When she shook her head and reached for a different chair, he sat down and pulled her into his lap, just to make her laugh.

"I see _somebody_'s feeling playful," she said, leaning into him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Are you sure now's the right time for this?"

"If I waited for the right time, I'd never get to be near you," he replied. But she was right—she'd slow him down if he had to get up and run after Faith. He let her go, and she took the seat next to his.

Heero schooled his expression to something that he hoped was bland and vaguely polite and scanned the room, trying to catch a glimpse of Faith. The lights had gone down when Sally took the podium. The ballroom was dim and crowded, and even Dak's tracking software wasn't giving him any clues. He could see that she was somewhere in the room, but not where.

And, unfortunately, it was a very large room. The ballroom and the stage were the largest the hotel had to offer; there were tables set aside for some of the more affluent guests, and the massive dance floor extended outside into the patio and pool area, which had also been reserved for the party. Not that anyone was going to be swimming tonight—the temperatures were just above freezing. But the winter cover had been removed from the pool anyway, and floating candles drifted across the water.

It was frustrating to say the least.

"Calm down," Relena said, resting her palm on his forearm. "She'll turn up soon, Heero."

Movement across the room caught Heero's eye. He looked up in time to see Selda Brisher grab her sister's arm and haul her out of the room. Heero wasn't going to let it bother him. Whatever they were up to, it probably didn't have anything to do with him. And if Len's video was any indication, Heero thought Faith could probably handle Selda on her own.

Heero covered Relena's hand with one of his own and tried to relax. Relena's publicist glared daggers at him from across the table—she'd never liked him, and she was not happy that he and Relena were trying to resolve their issues. He didn't waste his time glaring back; it would only give the harpy another reason to complain.

No, there were much better ways to get under Melissa's skin. Public displays of affection were his favorite—and Relena seemed to enjoy that as much as Melissa hated it.

"You're wearing your ring again," he said. As much as he wanted to, he was _not _going to ask if she was just wearing it as a fashion statement—it would only piss her off, and Melissa would get a kick out of that. He'd find out on his own, when they got home and she changed out of her dress and the rest of her jewelry. Relena flushed and glanced down to where it sparkled on her hand.

"I just got it back from the jeweler today," she confessed. "I was afraid I ruined it when I fell, but it looks as good as new. They really did good work, didn't they?"

"They did," Heero agreed, taking Relena's hand and examining it carefully. It was obvious that she'd injured herself recently, and she didn't look like she was fully healed. He pressed a kiss against her swollen knuckles just to irritate Melissa, who was starting to get on his nerves. "Does it still fit? It looks a little snug."

"Not really," Relena admitted. "But I didn't want to have it sized again. It isn't good for the setting, and I think I'd like Faith to have it someday."

"Hn," Heero didn't have anything to say to that. It was _her_ ring, after all. He worked it off her finger—it really was too tight—and put it on her right hand instead. "There. Keep it like that for a few weeks; your left hand will probably heal a little better without your wedding ring cutting off the circulation."

Relena smiled. "All right," she murmured, glancing down at the ring one last time before settling back to listen to Sally's speech.

Heero scanned the room again, easily picking out Quatre at the head of Winner Corp.'s table and Trowa shadowing him as a bodyguard. Wufei sat with Satoshi Kiba, but the two men both seemed fixed on Sally. _Where _is _she,_ he wondered.

* * *

><p>Attending formal public events wasn't easy when you were the former Queen of the World; everyone knew you, almost everyone wanted a piece of you, and a good number of people were just waiting for you to make a mistake so they could start pointing fingers.<p>

It was even harder when your husband was dead set on making a total ass of himself. When he started taking his cell phone apart at the table in the middle of Sally's speech, Relena decided she'd had enough.

She took it. Melissa didn't quite laugh, but she did let out an unladylike snort.

"Relena," he grumbled.

"You can have it back later," she replied. "Honestly. What's so important that you have to have your phone out at a time like this? I thought you were supposed to be watching out for Faith."

He rolled his eyes and tapped one of the icons on the phone screen. An instant message client popped up and opened to the last conversation.

**Faithless: You're going to want to turn that earpiece  
>off for a bit.<strong>

**Hee-chan: I don't think so. Get back where I can see you.**

**Faithless: You'll see me in a minute. I'm busy now.**

**Hee-chan: You'd better not be doing anything stupid.**

**Faithless: Stupid? Me? Please. Genius is more like it.  
>Or possibly inspired. You should know that by now.<strong>

**Faithless: Logged out at 7:35 p.m.**

"A little full of herself, isn't she?" Relena murmured, passing the phone back to her husband. "That still doesn't explain why you were taking it apart at the table."

"Faith's been messing with my phone," he said, cramming it back into one of his pockets. "That IM client wasn't standard, and I didn't install it. I also can't figure out the password she used to set up the account."

Relena sighed. "Heero—let it go. She wouldn't pick on you so much if she didn't like you. It's just how some kids are. In fact, I seem to remember a certain young man who once broke into my house just to steal a kiss."

Heero scowled, but there wasn't any malice in it. "Don't make this about me. Faith gets this from _your _side of the family. Or have you forgotten the time you pushed me into the pool?"

"You pushed me first," Relena replied, grabbing hold of Heero's tie and making him look her in the eyes.

"You kissed me at the office Christmas party," Heero said. He grinned wolfishly at Relena for the briefest second before his gaze wandered elsewhere.

Okay. So he was looking down her dress. Relena rolled her eyes. _Men_.

"You were standing under the mistletoe!"

Relena yanked the tie that time, dragging his attention back up to her face. To anyone else, the scene probably looked like an argument. It was just as well. Relena wasn't sure she wanted the rest of the room to know it was practically foreplay for the two of them. They were scarcely an inch apart by now, and Relena would have thrown caution to the wind and gone in for a kiss if her nosy publicist hadn't chosen that moment to interrupt.

"Ms. Relena, if you're planning on murdering your husband, I think I have to advise you against strangling him in public with his own necktie. Even I can't put a good spin on that one."

"Who said anything about murder?" Relena demanded, flushing. "Killing's too good for him."

Heero only smirked at her as he fixed his tie. The bastard. The perfectly toned, good-looking, all-too-arrogant—

_Aw, crap,_ Relena thought, still staring at her husband as she refused to be the first one to look away. _I am _so _jumping you when we get home. Just as soon as I can get you into the bedroom and lock the door._

Heero's smile deepened and Relena felt her cheeks grow hotter. She'd always been an open book to him. It was so unfair.

Sally's speech was wrapping up, and Relena didn't care to listen to Kiba's emcee explain how the karaoke thing was going to work—there was no way _she_ was getting anywhere near that stage. She'd sent her donation earlier, along with her RSVP. She waited for the applause to start before leaning over and whispering in Heero's ear.

"If you keep looking at me like I'm dessert, I'm dragging you into the bathroom and making you wish I _had _strangled you. You won't be able to _walk_ when I'm finished with you."

Six weeks apart was just too long, Relena decided. Divorce was out of the question, but she'd been thinking that for the past couple of days. They had their issues—every couple did—but in the end, Relena knew they made a good pair. She'd never find anyone else who complemented her so well.

"Save it for later," Heero murmured, surreptitiously reaching under the table and resting one warm hand on her thigh. "As much as I'd like to oblige, we are here for a reason."

He nodded toward the stage and Relena sucked in a gasp when she saw Kiba's guest of honor, little Emily Carter, leading Faith out from the wings.

"Is that safe?" she asked, reaching for Heero's hand and gripping it tightly.

"It should achieve our objectives—if the Red Fang is here, it'll definitely get their attention," he replied. "As far as safety goes, she's far enough from these tables that it won't be easy to get an accurate shot with a handgun. Quatre's team checked for explosives and didn't find anything. Kidnappers are a much bigger threat tonight, Relena."

Relena nodded. She trusted Heero's judgment, and she trusted her security team and the other ex-gundam pilots. She sat back in her chair and watched as Faith removed the microphone from its stand and handed it to Emily. Unfortunately, the little girl was getting over a cold and her voice was raspy and hushed.

"I can't hear her," Relena whispered.

"She says she's too sick to sing, so she asked Faith to stand in," Heero replied. "Looks like this is Faith's genius idea. You might want to cover your ears."

He reached into his jacket and fiddled with something; Relena could only guess that he was switching his earpiece off, as Faith had advised over the phone.

"_Heero!"_ she hissed, "That isn't very nice. You're supposed to be supportive. She is going along with your plan, after all."

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't say she was bad, Relena. Just loud. Very, very loud."

They missed the end of Emily's introduction, but there was no way of missing the way Faith's voice seemed to fill the room. Relena recognized the song, dimly, but she couldn't recall the title or artist; it was just one of those old, classic songs that everyone's probably heard at some point or another.

It didn't matter.

What mattered was that no one in the room was looking away from the stage. Faith had a commanding presence, and the intensity that blazed in her blue eyes reminded Relena of a certain young boy who'd once pointed a gun in her face.

"Amazing," Relena murmured.

"You didn't know she could sing?" Heero asked.

Relena shook her head. "I had no idea," she said. "Can _you _sing? She seems to get everything else from you."

Heero only snorted, but that was answer enough for Relena. She didn't care. Nobody was perfect, and Heero was talented enough without being musically gifted, too.

Relena could see a handful of people gathering around the base of the stage, right by the exit Sally had taken earlier. Reporters, most likely. A camera flashed and she made a decision.

"Come on," she said. "We should get down there; Faith isn't used to dealing with the press. Melissa, you come, too. If anybody asks, tell them we're holding a conference on Monday. You and I can iron out the details tomorrow."

Relena was out of her chair before anyone could stop her; she pushed through the growing crowd and waited at the base of the stairs.

* * *

><p>Faith found herself in the bathroom for the second time that night, only this time she was heaving over one of the Platinum Oaks Hotel's fancy porcelain toilets.<p>

She'd never had stage fright before, but she supposed it was normal to be a little anxious when there was a high possibility that someone in the audience was planning to kill you. It had taken all of her self-control just to stumble offstage and back into the ladies' room before spilling her guts.

"You all right in there?" Stephanie asked from the other side of the door.

"Peachy," Faith replied, pushing a clump of sweaty hair off her skin. "Fan-frigging-tastic, actually. How are you?"

Faith curled up on the cold tile floor and tried to catch her breath. She still had a job to do after all, nerve-wracking as it was, and she fully intended to see it through to the end.

_I hope I didn't hurt Emily's feelings,_ she thought, realizing how boorish her behavior had been as she'd exited the stage.

_The stage lights were bright and too hot; Faith knew she was sweating, that her makeup was running and she probably looked like an awful mess, but she was too busy fighting anxiety to care. It would be too easy to screw this up, or worse, to be a victim of a surprise attack. And what would Emily think if someone started shooting? _

_The emcee took the microphone from her sweaty hand; Faith let it go. Now that the song was over, she was afraid she might drop it. She smiled a goodbye smile at Emily and let her shaking legs take her to the stairs she'd spotted earlier._

_Cameras twinkled like stars. Faith blinked against the spots that clouded her vision and stumbled down the stairs. She missed the last one entirely and fell—right into her dad's arms. Her mom was there, too, and her publicist, and they were all utterly silent, staring at down at her with unreadable expressions._

"_Let me go," Faith said, pushing away from her dad and nearly falling again as his grip on her loosened. "Don't touch me!"_

_She wrenched herself free and bolted to the one place where she knew she'd have a little relative privacy and a few minutes to center herself._

"I'm okay," Faith said, pushing herself up off the floor and unbolting the stall door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and winced. "I look like shit."

Stephanie grinned. "That's why you have me. Ms. Relena's always getting into little incidents at the most inconvenient times. We carry extra makeup so she can touch up if it's necessary. I have some gum, too. Here."

Faith rinsed her mouth out and scrubbed her face in the bathroom sink. She chomped on a piece of gum as she brushed on a coat of powder and reapplied her lip gloss. There was no way of re-covering her "beauty spot," but Faith decided she'd just have to live with it. Things could have been much worse. _Thank goodness for whoever invented waterproof mascara,_ she decided, as she realized it hadn't even smudged.

It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was better. Faith handed the cosmetics back to her guard; there wasn't room in her clutch for anything besides her tablet.

"Thank you," she murmured. "Let's get back out there."

They met Caroline in the hall and the two guards fell back, flanking Faith and melting into the crowd as she strode back into the ballroom. Her mom was impossible to miss in her scarlet dress; she was dancing with Mr. Winner, and they were obviously comfortable with one another. Her dad was a little harder to spot; he was slouched at the bar, staring into a glass of amber liquid.

Faith didn't have to think twice. She worked her way over to the bar and perched on a vacant stool. The bartender glanced up and smiled.

"Can I get you anything, Miss?"

"Whatever he's having," Faith replied, meeting his startled look with a brilliant smile. Her dad looked up at her as well, and slid the glass down the bar to her.

If he was just giving it to her, it wasn't alcohol. Faith tipped the glass back and drank greedily; singing always made her thirsty. The apple juice tasted strange after chewing gum, but Faith didn't care.

"Thank you," she said, ducking her head under her dad's unreadable gaze. "I'm sorry about—earlier."

"You needed to get their attention," he replied. "You got it. We're being watched now."

Faith laughed weakly; she'd noticed people's eyes on her. "I told you it was genius, didn't I?"

"Or possibly inspired," he deadpanned. "I thought I told you to stop playing with my phone."

"No," Faith replied. "You told me I'd be in trouble if you caught me picking your pockets. You didn't say anything about messing with the stuff on your dresser."

She hadn't expected him to laugh. He was always so—stoic. So reserved. Maybe he _had _been drinking at some point.

"Don't tell me you're getting hysterical," she said lightly. "We can't both be off our game. Not tonight."

"No," he agreed. He sobered instantly, but Faith thought she still saw traces of a smile on his lips, and a hint of softness in his eyes. "Heads up. Five o'clock."

Faith spared a glance out of the corner of her eye and saw a dark-haired girl approaching. She'd never met Selda's sister in person, but she recognized her from the Preventer files her dad had shown her. Selda was a beauty of the flashy, blonde California girl variety. Arielle's beauty was darker, but much more classic. She carried herself with grace and Faith detected a hint of pride in her black eyes and the tilt of her chin. It was the kind of beauty that couldn't diminish, but would grow deeper and more noticeable with time and care.

If Arielle was up to something, her motives would be much harder to read.

Faith sat on her stool; it was entirely possible that the other girl only wanted a drink. She acted ignorant until Arielle's translator stepped deliberately into her line of sight and made it clear that she was his objective.

"You are Miss Emily's friend, correct? You are the one who sang in her place earlier?" he asked; English obviously wasn't his first language, but he spoke it well enough. Faith nodded. "Miss Arielle was in charge of the arrangements for tonight's event, and she wishes to make your acquaintance. It is a bit noisy for conversation here; might we go for a walk?"

Faith did her best to give the man a brilliant smile, although her stomach had dropped to her knees and she was starting to think that the apple juice had been a bad idea.

"Of course," she said, rising slowly from her seat in what she hoped was a graceful motion. "Where would you like to go?"

* * *

><p>Notes: This one was written in kind of a rush, so please let me know if you spot any mistakes or anything confusing. Work has been kicking my ass lately, and I'm still trying to adjust to the schedule changes. Additionally, this might be my last update for a little while. I'm leaving for Seattle on Sunday, and I'll be gone for a week. I don't know if I'm going to have time to finish anything between now and then.<p>

I want to thank everyone for reviewing! You guys really make my day. :D


	26. Chapter 26

The patio looked like a lovely place to lounge on a warm summer evening. A path wound down to the poolside through an elegant garden. The lighting was romantic and recessed and, although Faith detested the smell of chlorine, she knew other people would like the swimming pool. Particularly decorated as it was with little floating lights.

In the early spring, however, it was not the first place a colony-raised girl would have chosen as a hangout. The wind was picking up, and little snow flurries had started floating down. Faith shivered and wished she hadn't declined her mother's offer of a wrap when they were still back at the house.

Arielle didn't seem bothered, even in her sleeveless gown, and Faith wondered how she could stand it. The other girl was unruffled and unhurried; once they got out of sight of the doors, she stopped walking and coughed softly.

"I was wondering when you'd get out here," Selda said, stepping out from behind a covered plant at Arielle's not-so-subtle signal. She was wearing a thick wool coat over her party dress and Faith couldn't help feeling a little envious. She glared at the other girl.

"What do you want from me?" Faith demanded. It was a setup, obviously, but she'd figured as much. Her dad had planned for trouble, though, so she wasn't too worried. People would be watching the entrances and exits, at the very least, and someone should come running if she made enough noise.

"We don't talk in front of the help," Selda replied. "You're coming for a walk with us. Kenji—stay."

Arielle's translator bowed slightly and took up a position at the entrance of the path that wound down to the pool. If he had any objections to being treated like a dog, he didn't voice them. Selda and Arielle linked their arms through Faith's and led her down the little walkway. She didn't fight. It was hard enough navigating the slippery gravel path in her heels without trying to struggle against two other girls.

Knowing Selda, it was possible that the blonde had nothing to do with the Red Fang and was working with her own agenda. Faith couldn't figure Arielle's place in it all, though; she had never met Selda's sister before but, from the way Selda talked about her, she couldn't imagine that the girls were close.

"This is good enough, Ari," Selda said once they'd gone around a couple of curves in the winding path. Faith frowned.

"I thought you couldn't speak English," she said to Arielle.

"When people think you don't speak their language, they spill all sorts of secrets in front of you," Arielle replied, with hardly a trace of an accent. She smiled beautifully, proud of her little ruse. "Enough about that, though. We're here to talk business."

Faith had a hard time controlling her shivers now that they weren't moving. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering and waited to see what the other girls wanted.

"Let's not rush into this," Selda said. "I want to make sure Faith knows exactly what she has to gain if she decides to work with us."

Faith frowned. They didn't have anything to offer her. As far as she knew, she didn't have anything they would want. At the moment, she didn't even have a jacket and it was _freezing_.

"The Red Fang wants you dead," Arielle said matter-of-factly. "Their members are tied to the White Fang, and I'm sure you know who _they_ were."

"Rebel colonists. Treize Faction members," Faith replied. It was all she could manage without chattering her teeth. _Rabble,_ she thought. _Led by my crazy uncle, who's off playing dead on Mars. I wonder what the Red Fang would have to say about _him_._

Faith started to wrap her arms around herself, trying to find some scrap of warmth in her skin. Selda and Arielle moved together, taking her arms and dragging her down the path again. They seemed to have that same unspoken understanding of one another that Mark and Luke had, even if they weren't identical twins like her brothers. Faith idly wondered if all twins were that way as they tugged her along. She had to work to keep up with them in her heels. She didn't particularly like being so close to the two of them—especially since they talked so casually about the people who had been hounding her all her life—but it did help with the cold. And she had a feeling she needed to hear what they had to say.

"They follow Grandfather's orders, although he's gone rather senile lately," Arielle continued. "He finds it insulting that the gundam pilots were never held accountable for their actions during the war. Particularly pilot Zero-One, as he was the one who delivered the final shot to Libra, killing our mother and father and many other White Fang members."

"They were soldiers," Faith replied. "I'm sorry if I sound heartless, but you can't go to war and not expect casualties."

"Exactly," Selda agreed. "But Grandfather doesn't see it that way. None of the Red Fang do. _They_ weren't soldiers—they didn't have the balls. But now that the war is over and no one can fight back, they want to make the gundam pilots hurt."

"It won't solve anything," Arielle said, picking up the conversation where Selda had dropped it. "But they think it will put things back into some kind of balance."

"I see," Faith said, although she really didn't. It was a foolish notion; killing her wasn't going to bring anybody back.

The wind changed, violently and suddenly, and it whipped through Faith, ruffling her skirt and pulling her hair painfully against the dozens of pins that held it up. It was so cold it burned, and Faith shuddered involuntarily. The girls pulled her forward again, following the path down toward the pool.

"We don't like the Red Fang," Selda said. "They're a liability. The old man's been diagnosed with dementia, and lately his schemes have been getting a little too bold. It's bad for business."

"Right," Arielle agreed. "Our stock is down after the bombing on your colony. They shouldn't have used company resources for that, even if it was just a diversion."

_A diversion?_ Faith wondered. "They weren't trying to blow me up?"

Selda laughed. "No. It's come to our attention that you're far more valuable alive. We talked Grandfather into staging an abduction rather than killing you outright. The explosion was designed to divert emergency officials away from the spaceport, so a kidnapping wouldn't get enough attention until it was too late for anyone to find you."

"What—do you want from me?" Faith asked. Alive was good. For sure. Alive was way better than exploded—but she'd rather be blown up than tortured or killed slowly.

The sisters smiled at one another around Faith. She recognized that look from her brothers—_Do you want to say it, or should I?_ The debate ended after a moment and Selda broke the silence.

"We know about the jump drive."

* * *

><p>The snow was really coming down now, in fat, wet clumps, and the girls still hadn't come back inside. The party was beginning to wind down, too; nobody was interested in singing, and the organizers had finally given up on karaoke and set up a sound system so people could dance instead.<p>

His listening device wasn't working. Either Faith was too far away or she'd damaged her little microphone somehow. It was concerning, but there was nothing Heero could do about it now.

He stayed at the bar, watching Relena dance with Quatre and trying to quell his jealousy. It wasn't like anything would happen. They were old friends, that was all. And there was something telling about a man in his thirties who still attended formal events with Relena, who was married, or with one of his sisters, instead of finding a date. Heero didn't bring it up. Quatre would come out of the closet when he was ready.

Trowa appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and took a seat at the bar. He seemed to be off-duty; he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over the back of his stool. It was their signal—Trowa wanted to talk business and they needed privacy.

"Send a glass of red over to Dr. Po for me," Heero said, passing a tip to the bartender. Sally would keep him busy long enough for Trowa to pass on the relevant information.

"Two of our suspects from the colony bombing are here," he said quietly once the bartender was gone. "One of them is Kiba's chauffeur. The other is his granddaughter's translator. Should I take them in? It'll look bad if we arrest them here."

Heero hesitated, thinking. It _would_ look bad to arrest them here, with so many reporters present, even if they did have the right paperwork. The suspects wouldn't talk anyway; they never did. Trowa already knew all of that, though. Heero wondered why he was asking.

"You've already bugged them," he realized. The slight smile he got in return was all the confirmation he needed. "Don't worry about it, then. Have your men noticed anything suspicious outside?"

"I haven't heard anything."

"Kiba's granddaughter led Faith out there a few minutes ago," Heero explained. "I'd follow them myself, but I'm being watched. I don't think it's a good idea for me to go anywhere just now."

The bartender was coming back. Sally raised her glass at them, an apologetic look on her face. Heero nodded; she'd done her best.

"I'm going to get some air," Trowa said, shrugging his jacket back on. Heero took it to mean that he was going to check on Faith. It was just as well—they didn't need to be seen talking. Even disguised, somebody might recognize Trowa if he hung around too long.

Heero glanced at the door one last time before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and going over the applications, looking for anything else Faith might have installed when he'd left it unguarded.

* * *

><p>Faith's stomach clenched as the words sunk in. <em>They know. How do they know?<em>

"Chris told you," she mumbled. Chris and Dak were the only ones who knew about the jump drive, and Dak knew how to keep a secret. Hell, he'd helped her build the thing. He had as much at stake here as she did.

Selda smiled. "It's amazing what a boy will do when he wants a pretty girl's attention, isn't it?" she asked. "But that isn't important now. You aren't stupid, Faith. I'm sure you know that technology is worth a _lot_ of money—and considering that you're only just getting started and you ought to have years of ideas locked up inside that thick little skull, _you _are probably worth even more."

"The deal is simple," Arielle cut in. "Work for us and we'll dissolve the Red Fang. Grandfather's condition is getting worse; Selda and I will be in charge of the company by the year's end, and it will be child's play for us to get rid of these fanatics. A round of layoffs should take care of it, and sharpen up the remainder of our work force at the same time."

"And if I refuse?" Faith asked. "It seems like you need to get rid of the Red Fang anyway, whether I agree to work with you or not."

Selda shrugged. "People die in car accidents every day, Faith. And let's not forget food poisoning and sudden illnesses. Ari and I don't share Grandfather's flair for the dramatic; we'd rather not risk our company or our reputations on something as silly as revenge. But that doesn't mean we can't make you hurt."

_So that's it, then,_ Faith thought, shivering as the wind tore through her. She stared down into the pool, trying to weigh her options. _One way or another, my future goes down the tubes. I won't work for people who get a thrill out of blackmail and fraud, and even the Preventers can't protect me from everything. _

Slowly, Faith worked her tablet out of her clutch. She couldn't think her way to another solution. Her head hurt. It was too much, with everything that had happened over the last few days. She needed some downtime.

"This is everything," she said, showing the device to Selda and Arielle. "All of my designs, the shuttle plans, the programming. Everything that's needed to build a jump drive is on this tablet."

Dak had copies—not to mention the jump drive itself—but Faith wasn't going to tell them that. Lying by omission was much easier for Faith than outright saying something untrue.

Selda reached for the tablet and Faith snatched it back.

"I'm not finished," she said. "Like I said—everything is here. And you aren't getting it."

She pitched the tablet into the pool and they all watched it sink.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Faith," Arielle said, almost sadly. "You could have your freedom. We only want your designs—you'd still get credit for the work, pay, whatever you wanted."

"Yeah," Faith muttered. "But at what cost? I have something that you want. And instead of dealing with me fairly in order to get it, you threatened my life and the lives of people I care about. I won't work for someone who's so eager to walk all over other people, no matter what it costs me."

"There is no room for idealism in the business world," Arielle said, but she sounded shaken, as if she was simply quoting something she no longer quite believed.

"Let it go, Ari," Selda advised. "That's the problem with idealists—they always put their beliefs and silly little causes first. It's why we're having so much trouble with the Red Fang now."

Arielle nodded. "You're right," she agreed. "We'll give you time to reconsider, Faith. But you'd better keep an eye out for the Red Fang. They still take orders from Grandfather, and he isn't as cautious or as kind as he used to be. Dementia makes him unpredictable."

"I'll keep that in mind," Faith murmured, watching the two of them walk back up the path. Her dad would worry when they came back inside without her, but it wouldn't hurt him. She needed to get her tablet back. Data recovery was easy enough to buy if you had the funds, and there was no way Faith was going to let her work fall into someone else's hands.

"You should go back inside."

It was a simple, quiet statement, but Faith still jumped when she heard it. Trowa had that way about him sometimes; he was good at sneaky. Faith suspected he'd learned it from the lions.

She jumped again when she turned to look at him.

"You cut your hair."

"I needed a disguise," he replied, smiling. "Besides, it was hiding my pretty face."

Faith couldn't help laughing at that. Trowa wasn't bad-looking, but he was hardly pretty. His features were a little too strong, too masculine, for that. It would take some time to get used to seeing him with short hair, but Faith definitely liked being able to see both of his eyes as he laughed back at her.

She ran to hug him, as she always did, and shivered at his warmth when he pulled her close. Footsteps scuffed along the gravel path, but Faith didn't look up. It was probably her dad, coming to make sure she was safe.

"Fay?" Faith pulled away from Trowa to shoot a dirty look at Len.

"Len. What are you doing out here?" she demanded. "It probably isn't safe for you to follow me around like this."

"Nobody's going to bother us," Len muttered. "There are too many other people around, and most of them are sane enough to be inside where it's warm."

Faith couldn't exactly argue with that last part. It was freezing out, even with Trowa standing so close, and she was having a hard time controlling her shivers again.

"Here." Len shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to her. Faith stared.

"What are you doing?"

"It's called being a gentleman," Len replied, rolling his eyes. "Just take it. My dad will have my ass if he thinks I'm being rude to you. Don't ask me to explain it, but he likes you."

Faith suspected that Len's attempt at kindness wasn't solely due to Wufei's influence. Especially since she was relatively sure that Wufei didn't like her all that much. She glanced up at Trowa, hoping for a hint at an appropriate response—she really didn't want to encourage Len, even if he was starting to grow on her a little—but Trowa only shrugged.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here much longer," he warned. Faith sighed. That was Trowa, practical through and through. She took the jacket. It was much too long—Len was tall, and he was something of a beanpole—but Faith brushed it off, thinking that the extra fabric probably meant extra warmth.

"Thank you. I'll give it back when we go inside," she said politely. "But I need to find a net or something so I can get my tablet out of the pool first."

Trowa pointed out a shed hidden among the plants. It was unlocked, and it only took a few minutes' work to find a long net and retrieve the tablet. Faith winced when she got it back; it was scratched up pretty badly after being scraped along the bottom of the pool.

"Dak's going to kill you," Len noted, checking out the damage. "He built this for you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Faith replied. "But it looks like Dak isn't going to get the chance. I think Dad's going to kill me first."

She nodded over at her dad, who was standing on the other side of the pool, glowering like a storm cloud. It was all too easy to get on his bad side, Faith realized. She seemed to do it constantly, whether she wanted to or not, and it was starting to get a little old.

"Your parents are looking for you, Len," he said, in a tone that didn't leave any room for argument. "I think you should go."

"Jeez," Len muttered, taking in the death glare going pale. "And I thought _my_ dad was psychotic. You're on your own, Fay. I'm out of here."

"Coward," Faith said cheerfully. "Take your jacket back and go, Lenny. I'll see you later."

"Then give my jacket back next time," Len replied as he jogged back up the path. "You need it more. Later, Fay."

Faith offered her dad a smile and a tiny wave, and grimaced when he only crossed his arms over his chest. Trowa was no help. He'd stand up to Duo for her sake, but apparently her dad was a different matter. Faith didn't hold it against him—Duo wasn't nearly as scary, even when he was on the verge of losing his temper.

_And if Dad's upset now, I'm not sure I want to know what he's going to think when he hears the rest of this,_ she thought.

Still, bad tempered or no, Faith would take her dad over the Red Fang or Selda and Arielle any day. She knew he was only in a pissy mood because he was worried about her. Duo got the same way when one of her brothers did something stupid, and there was really only one good way to diffuse the situation—compliance. Faith tucked her tablet under her arm and walked around the edge of the pool until she reached her dad's side.

"Let's go home," she suggested. "I think I've had enough crazy for one night."

* * *

><p>Notes: Does it seem like I'm leaving anything out? I feel like there's some huge, glaring omission here, and I've just let myself get too close to the story to see it. Please let me know if you spot my mistake, lol. It isn't the jump drive-that'll be explained in the next chapter.<p>

Thanks so much for all of the reviews! And for being so patient while I was out of town. Seattle was lovely, and I wish I could have stayed longer.


	27. Chapter 27

**A brief warning: Things get a little racy in the middle scene of this chapter. I don't think it's enough to offend any sensitive readers, but please let me know if you think I need to raise the rating.**

* * *

><p>"Dad?"<p>

Faith stood in the kitchen doorway, still in her party dress, clutching her tablet to her chest and looking lost. Torstin was at her heels, but that was no surprise. The dog taken to following Faith everywhere lately.

"What is it?" Heero asked, closing the pantry door and turning his back on the coffee. It was too late for caffeine.

"Is Mom around?" Faith was hesitant, nervous even, and Heero wasn't sure what to make of it. Given that she was asking for Relena, it was probably girl problems—and those were definitely not his area of expertise.

"She's upstairs. I think she's on the phone," he replied, beginning to reconsider the coffee. There was probably some decaf somewhere.

"Oh. Good." Faith stepped slowly into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. Torstin settled himself at her feet as she pushed the power button on her tablet. The screen flickered to life and it started its boot-up process. Heero frowned.

"I thought you dropped that in the pool," he said. She shrugged.

"It's water-resistant. When Dak decides to build something, he goes all out." She bit her lip and glanced away for a second. "Dad—what I said in the car, about the Red Fang wanting to kill me to get revenge, was only partly true. I didn't want to talk about the rest of it in front of Mom. I don't want to upset her."

Heero decided that maybe it wasn't too late for caffeine after all. He went back to the pantry and retrieved the French roast.

"Don't worry about Relena," he advised as he got the coffee maker set up. "She's stronger than you think."

"I know she's strong," Faith said. "But she has enough going on right now, and I think I'm in over my head with Kiba and the Red Fang. I might not be the only one in trouble, Dad. I think—I think they might be after Dak, too."

Somehow, it wasn't a surprise. Dak seemed to follow Faith around like a lost puppy; Heero knew they still talked and sent messages to one another. It made sense that they'd find trouble together, too. He glared at the coffee pot, silently willing it to work a little faster.

"Why?" he demanded.

"It was something Selda and Arielle told me," she said. "They want a project I was working on. But Dak helped with a lot of it; I probably couldn't recreate it without him, actually. It's still in an early stage, but everything works so far. They think it's going to be worth a lot of money when it's complete."

"What is this project?" Heero asked, frowning.

"It might be better if I show you," she said. She pushed her tablet across the table toward him. "This is the shuttle building contest Dak and I entered. The idea behind it was to inspire engineers to create efficient, economical ships that could help speed up work on the Mars project and space exploration in general. I think they would have gotten a bigger turnout if they'd offered a cash prize instead of a scholarship. Most of the other entrants were undergrads. But that's beside the point. Just watch the video."

A video was paused on the screen. Heero tapped the Play icon and watched as the camera panned across six custom-built shuttles drifting in outer space. He recognized the one on the end; it was the same shuttle that was sitting in Duo's private dock at the colony spaceport, the one that Faith and Dak had designed.

It was also the only shuttle that didn't move when the race started. The others sped forward; one of them stalled out. Two crashed into each other. And then, finally, the small shuttle came to life, streaking past the others and across the finish line in a blur of black and silver.

"That's—pretty fast," Heero said, hitting Replay and watching the race again.

"You think so?" Faith asked. She took her tablet back and tapped out a few sequences, bringing up another video that had been hidden under some kind of encryption. "Wait until you watch the rest."

It was the same shuttle, in what looked like the same empty region of space, but this time there was no one else around. The boosters fired up and the shuttle streaked forward again—and suddenly vanished. It reappeared a second later, all the way at the end of the course.

"_That_ is pretty fast," Faith said. "The shuttle's engine is equipped with something—special. We call it the jump drive. We haven't done any long-range testing yet, but if everything works the way it should, this shuttle can fly from Earth to Mars in about twelve hours. It's considerably faster than anything that's currently available."

Heero replayed that video, too, watching to see if it had somehow been faked. Under more careful scrutiny, it was possible to see the little ship flying across the course; it was just hard to see something so small and dark speeding across the black backdrop of deep space. Heero could see why Faith was worried about upsetting Relena—the experiments she'd been conducting carried a high risk of failure, and accidents in space usually ended badly. He grabbed a mug out of the cabinet and wished there was something a little stronger than coffee in the house.

"This was supposed to be a secret," Faith continued. "We didn't want to reveal anything until the shuttle was complete and everything was fully tested, just in case there were problems with the design. But Chris told Selda, and Selda told her granddad, and now Kiba has decided I'm worth more alive than dead. It's why they tried to kidnap me. I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm afraid they might try to get Dak if they can't get me. They'll need both of us if they want to build another shuttle anyway. I only did the physical work. Dak's responsible for the computers and the navigation system."

"Does Duo know about this?" Heero thought he knew the answer, but it seemed like a good idea to ask anyway.

Faith shook her head. "He knows about the shuttle," she said. "It started out as a work-study credit for school and he had to sign the permission forms. But he doesn't know about the jump drive. We didn't tell _anyone_ but Chris—and we wouldn't have told him, except we needed someone to help with the heavy lifting."

Heero drained his mug in one gulp and tried to convince himself that it was actually cognac instead of scalding hot coffee.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself building this thing. It's dangerous to play around with things like this, Faith. And unsupervised—"

"Who was there to supervise, Dad?" Faith interrupted, her pale cheeks flushing with anger. "Not _you_, that's for sure. You have _no _idea what's been going on. Hilde's sick. She might even be _dying_ this time. She's had cancer before—they found it the first time when they were treating her for the stroke she had when Lexi was born. I don't know how bad it is this time; they don't want to scare us. Which, trust me, is not making things any less scary. And Duo? If he isn't taking care of Hilde, he's trying to bring in enough work to cover her medical expenses and keep up with the payments on the house. He's _glad_ we know how to keep ourselves busy—it's one less thing for him to worry about."

Heero stared into his empty mug. This was not how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to be working together, not fighting. He'd forgotten what it was like to be fifteen: young, stupid, and pretty sure he was indestructible. Faith wasn't all that different, really. She thought she was doing the right thing and, in some ways, she probably was.

"I just don't want you—or one of your friends—to get hurt," he said, meeting her eyes and trying to show her that he wasn't angry. "Even a small miscalculation on a project this complex can have fatal consequences, Faith."

She rolled her eyes. "We were careful. And you don't need to lecture me over shop safety, Dad. I practically grew up in a junkyard, remember? There isn't time for this. Not when Dak might be in trouble, too."

"Hn." Heero didn't entirely agree—Faith definitely needed a safety lecture—but it probably wasn't the best time. Somebody needed to call Duo, and Faith didn't look like she was up for it. _The pressure's getting to her,_ he thought, taking in her frown, her mussed appearance, and the circles under her eyes.

He reached across the table, covering her hand with his own. She stiffened; she was still uncomfortable being close to him, but she didn't pull away. It was no wonder, either—her hands were ice cold. She was probably going to be sick after her walk in the garden.

"I'll call Duo and let him know what's going on," he said. "I want you to go take a hot shower and put on something warm."

"I'm not a baby, Dad," she muttered, pulling away from him. "I'll be fine."

"Relena won't like it if you catch a cold," he said. "You think she's upset now? Wait and see what happens when you start getting sick. I can take care of Duo. You go take care of yourself."

For a second, she looked like she was going to argue. But then she nodded and picked up her tablet, silently confirming Heero's suspicion that she was more distressed than she seemed. He'd come to realize that she was the type of person who preferred to see things through to the end; he was a little worried to see that she was willing to let him handle this.

Then again, it meant she was starting to trust him. They probably still had a long way to go, but it was a step in the right direction.

"Thanks, Dad," she mumbled. Torstin scrambled to his feet as Faith pushed her chair back, happily taking his place at her heels without being told. "Goodnight."

"'Night," Heero replied, watching them go. He reached for his cell phone and wondered how much longer any of them could handle the strain of their current situation.

* * *

><p>Relena crept downstairs, hoping she wasn't about to make a fool of herself. The living room was dark, but there was a light shining under the kitchen door. She could hear Heero in the kitchen, talking on the phone.<p>

"Right," he muttered. "Find out what's going on, Duo. Let me know if you need help."

_It's probably something for Faith,_ she decided. He'd tell her what was going on if it was important. She tiptoed toward the door, feeling a little silly, and stuck her head in. He was sitting at the kitchen table, still in his dress shirt and slacks. His hair was its typical unruly mess and his tie was crooked again, which added to the overall disheveled look.

He pulled it off better than most men. The tie bothered her, though; at his age, he ought to know how to dress himself. The phone beeped as he ended the call and he practically slammed it down on the tabletop, giving her a rare indication that he was in a bad mood.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, padding barefoot across the tile floor and resting a hand on his shoulder.

Instead of answering, he threw his arms around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug.

"You're still wearing your dress," he said, releasing her after a second.

"I am," she replied, smiling a little. "Heero, what's the matter?"

He didn't say anything. She ran her fingers through his hair, waiting him out. He'd get frustrated if she pestered him, and then she'd never get any information.

"We might have to bring Dak here for a while," he said slowly. "It's possible that the people who want Faith are going to go after him next. Duo's looking into it."

"Those poor kids," Relena murmured. "No wonder they throw themselves into their schoolwork the way they do. It's probably the only constant they have, with Hilde's health problems and now all of this."

"Hn."

"How soon will we know?"

"Tomorrow. Duo's supposed to call when he decides what he wants to do."

Relena pulled out a chair for herself and sat down, pulling Heero's hands into her lap and twining her fingers through his. He shot her an inscrutable look, which she returned with a broad smile.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning a little.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she returned, amused. It felt good to be near him; surely he understood that. But he pulled his hands back and crossed his arms across his chest, fixing her with a level stare.

"Relena," he murmured. "Don't. You were threatening me with divorce just a few days ago. It isn't right for you to come in here now, wearing _that _dress, and tease."

Relena smiled softly at his words, pleased that he still trusted her enough to show how vulnerable he was feeling. He'd been so closed-off when they were first married, so afraid to do anything that might make him seem weak. It had taken a long time and a lot of effort for them to reach this level of openness, and Relena was glad that they hadn't lost it.

"I don't want a divorce," she said. "I never did. I just—I don't feel like I deserve the trust you've placed in me, not after everything I've done to you. I lied to you, I kicked you out, I made you look like a fool—but you still came back. I tried to fight it for a while, because I thought it would get better if we stayed apart, but everything came clear after we talked the other night. You keep me from being so dangerously impulsive. So completely thoughtless. I just can't believe I've been so _stupid_—"

"Stop that," Heero interrupted. "You aren't stupid, Relena. You follow your heart, and a lot of people admire that about you."

"I don't need admiration," Relena replied. "Right now, I think I just need forgiveness. Followed by a little quality time with my husband."

"Define quality time," he said slowly.

"You could help me with my zipper, for starters," she suggested. "After that—we'll see."

Relena stood up and slowly walked past him, pausing to brush her fingers through his hair one last time. He was on his feet in one swift, fluid motion, staring down at her with dark eyes and an expression that made her heart pound.

"We'll see, huh?" he asked. His arms went around her again, slowly this time, as he rubbed his hands over the soft material of her dress in a way that sent pleasant shivers all the way down to her toes.

"Mmm," she agreed, reaching out and grabbing his tie. She straightened it out with one practiced jerk—at this point, she was willing to swear that he messed it up on purpose—and pulled him closer with another. She'd forgotten how good he smelled, and she pressed her face into his shoulder for a second, just breathing him in. He hugged her tightly, nose buried in her hair, and she let out a little burst of laughter when she realized he was doing the same thing.

"What?" he asked, pulling back to look at her. She smiled and shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied. "Let's go upstairs. There's a zipper that requires your expert attention, in case you've forgotten."

She didn't need to suggest it a third time. He scooped her up bridal-style and she hid her face against his shoulder again, this time so Faith wouldn't hear her giggling and stumble into a situation that would be awkward to explain.

* * *

><p>Faith woke with a jerk and a gasp, sitting bolt upright and staring into the darkness of her room. The clock by her bedside read a few minutes after four a.m.<p>

_Seizures again,_ she thought ruefully. The little ones just woke her up. Sometimes she could roll over and fall back asleep afterward, but she was wide awake this time. Torstin whined in the darkness and Faith reached out to rub the soft spot behind his ears.

"Hush," she murmured. "Don't wake Mom and Dad."

The dog whined again and turned around in a little circle. Faith sighed; he probably needed to go outside for a while. She slipped into her clothes and grabbed her tablet before letting the dog into the hall and creeping out behind him.

The house was dark and utterly silent; somehow, Faith knew she was alone downstairs so she only made a little effort to be quiet as she led Torstin into the kitchen and waved him out the back door.

"No barking," she said, though she wasn't sure it would do any good. She didn't know the German command yet, and the dog rarely responded to anything in English.

Her dad's phone was on the kitchen table, so Faith set it up to download another game before turning her tablet on and checking to see if she had any new messages from Dak.

**Zakdak: Everything's fine here, at least for now. You scared  
>the crap out of Dad, though. He's thinking about sending<br>me to Earth anyway, just in case.**

**Zakdak: Signed off at 11:40 p.m.**

At least he wasn't mad that she'd told her dad about the jump drive. Faith bit her lip, thinking sadly that this was all her fault. Even if Chris had been the one to blab, entering the stupid shuttle contest had been her idea. She opened the keypad and typed a brief reply, even though it would probably be hours before Dak woke up and got it.

**Faithless: Look on the bright side. If you come here, we  
>can torture my dad together. It's fun. He isn't as scary<br>as he thinks he is.**

She left the messenger open so she'd receive a response immediately and opened up the ebook she'd been assigned to read over the break. Even if she wasn't going back to school, she thought she might as well finish up the last of the coursework she'd been assigned. It was a way to kill time, anyway.

The swinging door creaked open behind her, and her shoulders tensed.

"Please tell me you're wearing pants," she blurted out automatically, feeling a blush heat her cheeks even as she said it.

"What?" Her dad's voice was thick with drowsiness; his confusion only added to her embarrassment, but she couldn't quite bring herself to turn around and look at him.

"Duo has a habit of sneaking downstairs for a snack in the middle of the night," she explained. "Nine times out of ten, he prefers to wander around in his birthday suit. No offense, Dad, but there are some things in this world that I just don't need to see."

"Yeah," he agreed. "That was a mental picture I didn't need. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I can't sleep," Faith replied, deciding not to elaborate on the reason behind her insomnia. She stared intently at her tablet, refusing to look at him as he walked around the table and sat down across from her, even though she was relatively certain that he was fully dressed. "What are you doing up?"

"Torstin's barking right outside the bedroom window," he said. "Or he was. I can't hear him anymore. I was afraid you were sleepwalking again."

_Again? As in I've been sleepwalking recently? _Faith thought. _Holy crap. How many of these stupid pills do I have to take before that stops happening? _

"Nope," she replied, deciding to play it cool for her dad's sake. He was a worrier, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Torstin barked outside the door, and Faith got up to let him in. The brief silence had been awkward, full of unasked questions on both sides of the table, and Faith was beginning to understand that her dad was just as uncertain of her as she was of him. It was weird, and it made her miss Duo's easy confidence and people skills more than ever. There were no awkward pauses when Duo was around.

"You aren't going back to bed, are you?" her dad asked when she plopped back into her chair and went back to her tablet.

"I'm not going to get back to sleep," she replied. "Don't let me keep you up."

"No," he said. "I thought—if you want—I might show you something."

The hesitation in his voice was interesting enough that Faith glanced up at him, curious. She frowned at him, wondering what was up.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's—a secret," he said in a rush. "You showed me yours—that jump drive thing. It only seems fair if I show you mine. I think you'll like it."

Faith didn't have to think about it. She pushed her tablet aside and gave him her full attention.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Notes: Oooh, Heero has a secret. Big surprise, right? Anyone care to guess what it might be? :D<br>Please let me know if you spot any typos or mistakes. I didn't proofread this very carefully-I fell down the stairs in the parking lot at Subway yesterday, and I don't feel like sitting up any longer than I have to. Everything hurts.

And, as always, I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to read this and leave a review. It really means a lot to me!


	28. Chapter 28

"We're here."

"I kinda figured, from the way you, you know, parked the truck."

Faith heard her dad snort as he got out of the truck and locked the doors. She could only imagine the eye-roll that almost certainly accompanied the sound. Faith didn't care if he was irked. He'd left himself open.

"What is this place?" she asked, taking in the massive building and the well-maintained grounds. "It's kind of like a castle."

"I guess you could call it that," he said. "A long time ago, this building used to be the seat of power of the former Sanc Kingdom. Later, during the war, it was a school where the elite sent their children to learn about the philosophy behind total pacifism. It's empty now. The owner can't decide whether to preserve it as a historical site or go back to using it as a school."

Faith took note of the set of keys in his hand and decided she didn't need to ask who owned the place. It made sense, really—her mom _had _been the ruler of Sanc for a short time, and she couldn't imagine her mom denying her dad access to an empty building if he wanted to use it.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He was walking in front of her, so she couldn't see his face, but Faith thought she heard the smile in his voice. He seemed to enjoy being dramatic. Faith decided not to pester him about it; he might change his mind about showing her this secret, and she was dying to know what he was hiding in the near-abandoned building.

There were a lot of steps leading to the entrance, and Faith was winded by the time they got to the top. They slipped in through the main doors, walked to the end of the building, down a few flights of stairs, and then down another hall to an elevator.

The place was at least as decadent on the inside as it was impressive on the outside. It was massive, with high ceilings, amazing picture windows and beautifully painted walls. It was still furnished, even, and although everything was draped with sheets, Faith imagined that it was all sumptuous, glamorous stuff. No wonder it had been a school for the elite—from the looks of things, the elite were the only ones who'd be able to afford it.

In the elevator, Faith watched her dad open a hidden panel, swipe a keycard and type in a short passcode on a little number pad. She fiddled with her necklace while she waited, silently hoping that her patience would be rewarded.

With all this security, whatever he was hiding _had _to be good.

"You can't tell anyone we came down here," he said as the elevator shuddered to life and started its descent. "Not Relena, not Duo, not even Dak or any of your friends. I'd prefer if you didn't even discuss it with me unless we're at home."

"I can keep my mouth shut," she assured him. If her curiosity hadn't been piqued before, it certainly was now.

"Good," he said. "It would probably ruin Relena's reputation if people found out I've been keeping this here."

Faith raised an eyebrow at that. People loved her mom, and had for decades; she couldn't help wondering what could possibly change that. And then the elevator doors slid open and Faith had her answer. There _was_ one thing that could change public opinion overnight, maybe even change it enough to drive the world back to the brink of war.

* * *

><p>Relena woke to the sound of her phone ringing. She rolled over, intending to cuddle closer to her husband and ignore the thing, and realized she was alone in her bed and, judging from the coolness of the sheets, she had been for a while.<p>

Well that was just perfect.

She lunged for the phone before whoever was calling got tired of waiting and hung up, and scowled when she saw that it was her publicist and not Heero.

"Melissa. It's five-thirty in the morning. This better be important."

Relena waited, doing her best imitation of Heero's darkest scowl, as Melissa only stared at her and babbled incoherently. When she noticed the flush creeping up the other woman's cheeks, she remembered she was wearing a pair of her husband's boxers and nothing else. She shut off the phone's camera and tried again.

"What do you want?" she barked.

There was a brief pause on the other end as Melissa regained her composure. When she spoke, it was all business in spite of the thick haze of exhaustion in her voice.

"The front page of today's Daily Sun is a spread of pictures from last night's party alongside some old stock photos of your daughter before she disappeared," she said. "They're claiming that the girl you brought to Kiba Corp's party _is_ your daughter and that you've known her whereabouts all along. The story goes on to allege that you misappropriated tax funds and other government assets to keep her hidden all this time."

"Oh."

A monosyllable was the best Relena could manage. Honestly, she knew she shouldn't be surprised that this had come to light; it was only a matter of time. But—she hadn't realized it would come this quickly.

"Is it true?"

"I never used tax funds to keep Faith hidden," Relena said quickly. "Everything came out of my own personal accounts. The government assets were unavoidable—it would have looked suspicious if I hadn't allowed some semblance of a search for her. But yes, I did know where she was the entire time."

Relena jumped out of bed and threw a shirt on before sitting down and switching the camera back on. Melissa looked thoughtful; Relena let her take her time, knowing that this was the moment that would probably make or break both of their careers.

"You have to make a statement," Melissa said. "It's still early, a lot of people aren't even up yet, so we have a little time to make preparations. Meet me at the office and we'll get started right away."

"Right," Relena agreed.

The phone rang again almost as soon as she ended Melissa's call. Sighing, Relena answered again, hoping it was better news this time.

"Ms. Relena, we have a problem."

"Of course we do," she muttered, looking guiltily at the woman who was the head of her security team. "I know about the story in the Daily Sun. Is there anything else?"

Allison looked grim. "There's a crowd gathering outside your office building. So far it seems to be calm, but we don't have the resources to control a group this large. If you insist on going in to your office today, we're going to need assistance from the police and maybe even the Preventers."

Great. Just great.

"You don't know where Heero is, do you?" Relena asked. Security was his area of expertise. Or one of them, anyway.

"Our logs show that he left around four-thirty," Allison said. "He told the gate staff that he didn't want to bother you, but to tell you that he was going to pay a visit to an old friend and he didn't know how long it would take. The girl is with him."

Heero didn't have many old friends, and certainly none he would visit at this hour of the morning. Either he'd heard about the threat and was taking Faith someplace safe, or he'd decided to show her around the old capital building. Relena wasn't sure which scenario was the most likely. Heero liked to keep on top of the news, but he rarely read the tabloids anymore—he'd eventually decided that some things just weren't worth the headache. And Sanc—it was a stretch, but it was possible.

"All right," Relena said slowly. "Given our current situation, I have to go in to the office today and address these issues before things get even worse. I'll be ready to leave as soon as you have everything prepared."

"Yes, Ms. Relena," Allison agreed.

Relena ended the call and got to her feet, hoping she had enough time to squeak in a quick shower. If nothing else, it would give her a few minutes to calm her nerves.

* * *

><p>"It's a gundam…"<p>

The words stirred echoes in Heero's memory. He'd heard them many times over his radio before, shouted in rage or uttered in fear, usually right before he cut down the enemy making the transmission. He'd never heard anyone say it quite like Faith, who was obviously fascinated, and it was almost enough to make him smile.

"Does Mom know you're keeping this down here?" she demanded, facing him with her hands on her hips and a hint of derision in her tone, completely ruining the moment. That, at least, seemed to be a talent of hers, and the realization brought a small smile to his lips.

"She knows," he said. "I thought you said you wanted to see a mobile suit. But here you are, asking silly questions instead of looking. We can leave if you're not interested."

That got a reaction out of her. She darted off, her soft footsteps echoing in the near-empty hangar, eager to examine the old piece of machinery.

"Which one is it?" she asked. "Duo never tells us about what he used to do. We know he was a gundam pilot because everyone knows, but he won't tell us about the gundams or the other pilots. And, of course, all the old pictures have been censored and classified so deeply that Dak doesn't think it's worth the effort of digging them up."

Heero wasn't surprised that Duo had kept the kids in the dark. Some parts of history were best left forgotten and, before Faith had convinced him that the technology might be useful in more peaceful ventures, Heero would have agreed that the gundams definitely fell into that category.

"This is Wing Zero," he said, leading her up the stairs to the catwalk that would give them access to the cockpit. "It was the first gundam built to utilize the Zero System, a cockpit system that analyzed battle data and fed the results directly into the pilot's brain. A strong enough pilot could use it to predict the future."

"That sounds a little dangerous," Faith muttered. "Not to mention completely unethical."

"The ones who designed it weren't concerned with ethics," Heero replied, thinking back on his training. No, there was nothing ethical about that. "They only cared about results."

And at the time, Heero had been all too willing to follow the orders, take the missions, and eliminate the targets. It was only later, after he'd accidentally killed that poor girl and her dog, that Heero had been able to break free of some of the harsher aspects of his training and start thinking for himself again. His experiences on Earth had helped give him a purpose, one other than life as a killing machine and death on the battlefield, and by the time he'd headed to space for the final battle, he'd even started to think that maybe his life wasn't as worthless as he'd been led to believe.

"What happened to the people who weren't strong enough to master it?" Faith asked, shaking Heero from his thoughts. He glanced at her, wondering if she really needed the details. She was strong, though. She could handle it.

"The lucky ones died," he said. "The unlucky ones went crazy first."

Faith made a face, but didn't comment. At least she seemed to have some respect for the dead. It was a refreshing change from her usual sharp commentary. Heero opened the hatch and stood back so Faith could look if she wanted.

"You can go in if you want," he said when she only stared. "It won't bite."

"Seriously?" she asked. "You just told me that this gundam used to make people crazy and kill them. And now you're saying it's okay for me to get in it? Make up your mind, Dad."

Heero rolled his eyes. "Everything's inactive. I haven't been down here in years; there's no way the power supply has a charge left, and they stopped refining vernier fuel after the war. Even if it does come online, you can't go anywhere. As a precaution, all of the weapons were disabled when I put it into storage here. It's fine."

Faith still looked skeptical so Heero swung into the cockpit and entered the startup sequence for her to see. The controls flickered and the gundam shuddered once before going dark again. Something hummed softly from deep inside the machine, but it would probably go out before long; there wasn't enough power left to sustain any of the gundam's systems for any length of time.

"Nothing's happening, Faith," he said, a little sadly. It looked like Zero really was gone for good; Heero had restored it after the Mariemaia incident, but there was no reason to put it back into working order now. "I wouldn't have brought you down here if I thought it was dangerous."

"Why did you bring me down here?" she asked, peering down at him. "I'm not ungrateful or anything, I just don't understand."

Heero ducked back out of the hatch, careful not to bump his head on a hatch that was much lower than he remembered it being, and looked at Faith thoughtfully.

"You said you wanted to examine a mobile suit," he reminded her. "You'll learn a lot more from Zero than you will from some busted old Leo. I thought you might like to have a look inside before we dismantle it."

Heero smirked at Faith as she stared at him with wide eyes. Bringing her down here was definitely a good idea —this was going to be much better than driving lessons—and it was past time to put Wing Zero to rest.

"Go on," he told her. "Check it out."

She was still hesitant, but she stepped down into the cockpit and settled herself gingerly into the seat.

"It smells like a locker room," she complained. "Gross."

Heero rolled his eyes. She was just like her mother. Next she'd complain about the color scheme or some other insignificant detail.

"You're such a girl," he muttered. She only laughed.

"Sorry, Dad," Faith replied. "If you'd rather have a boy, maybe Duo'll trade you for Chris. _I_ think you'll be getting the short end of that deal, but if it's what you—Dad? What's happening? It's—vibrating. Everything's lighting up. I didn't touch anything!"

"Get out," Heero said tersely, recognizing that hypnotic golden glow. Apparently there was still enough power to activate the Zero System, even if the gundam itself would probably never move again.

Faith hopped out of the seat, but she wasn't fast enough. The hatch slammed shut, trapping her inside the gundam. Heero heard a muffled shriek and hoped she was only startled, not injured. He reached for the handle to open it and let out a frustrated growl when he discovered it was jammed.

* * *

><p>Notes: Okay, so a lot of people figured out Heero's secret. I'm hoping you guys still enjoyed the chapter anyway. :D<p>

It'll probably be a little while before I get the next chapter up. I have a lot of work stuff going on right now, and I'm also trying to finish outlining my next story so I can get it up as soon as this one ends, so I'm a little short on time. I don't think it'll be too long, though. :D Anyway. Read, review, enjoy!

And, as always, I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to review, PM me, or add this story to their favorites or alerts. It really means a lot to me!


	29. Chapter 29

Relena paced in the kitchen, her phone pressed to her ear, counting the rings on the other end. _Three…Four…Come on, pick up_, she thought, sighing as the voicemail recording came on again.

"You've reached Heero Yuy. Leave a message."

"Heero," she groaned. "Where _are_ you?"

It was the third time she'd called, and she knew she wasn't the only one trying to reach him. The Preventers had formed a group to deal with the crowd at her building, and she knew Wufei was trying to reach him.

Her phone rang and she pounced, nearly dropping it in her haste to answer. Unfortunately, it wasn't Heero's number flashing on the Caller ID screen.

"Allison," she sighed. "What's going on? I thought you'd be here by now."

"Things aren't looking good," Allison said grimly. "We've had a couple of fights break out. It's nothing serious, but I think you should issue a statement from home and stay put for now. With this atmosphere, it's only a matter of time before something serious happens; things will probably start breaking up once we can get the word out that you won't be coming in today."

"No," Relena argued. "These people elected me to office because they trusted me and they believed in me. And I—I've let them down. They deserve the truth and I'm going to deliver it to them myself. In person, Allison."

Allison looked doubtful, but she nodded anyway.

"I'll send an escort as soon as I can make the arrangements," she said reluctantly. "But I really think this is a bad idea."

Relena ended the call and sank into her chair at the kitchen table, wondering what else was going to go wrong before the day was over. It hardly seemed like things could get much worse, though.

* * *

><p>Faith woke in the dark. Her hands and ankles were bound and something dug painfully into her back. The cold air smelled sterile and unpleasant, but colony air was often like that. It was just the way things were in space.<p>

_Where am I?_ she wondered, shifting as much as she could and looking around. _How did I get here?_

She searched her memory and came up blank—and that, more than anything else, frightened her.

"Hello?" she called, her voice thin with fear. "What is this place? What's going on?"

A harsh yellow light snapped on, blinding her after her time in the dark. Faith squinted, trying to see something, anything, through the spots in her eyes.

"Hello, Faith."

The voice was familiar, but it wasn't reassuring. Faith swallowed the lump in her throat, and sucked in a nervous breath.

"Arielle," she murmured. "Where am I? Where's my dad?"

Her vision was clearing now. She was chained to a metal chair that was bolted to the floor in front of a metal table. Arielle sat on the opposite side of the table, watching her with a small, catty smile.

"I just want to talk," Arielle replied. "I've been waiting for you to come to me, Faith. Now that you're here, I can help you defeat your enemy."

"Enemy?" Faith asked, frowning. "I don't know what you mean."

Faith couldn't focus on anything, couldn't even see anything except Arielle, who sat prettily in the golden light of the lamp. _Enemy. My enemy?_ Her mind fixated on the word, to the exclusion of all else. Faith stared at Arielle, silently demanding an explanation. Arielle seemed to understand.

"You'll learn," Arielle said, pushing her chair back and walking around the table. She found the handcuff key Faith kept hidden in her braid and used it to unlock Faith's bindings. "Walk with me."

It wasn't a colony after all, unless they were inside the control center. Faith was more willing to bet that it was a mining satellite; the place was utilitarian and functional without regard to form. There were no plants, no parks, no mock-skyscrapers.

Arielle led Faith to the junction of a corridor and pressed herself against the wall, motioning for Faith to do the same.

"We're both prisoners in this place," she murmured. "I'm only helping you because I want you to understand that we're equals. When this is over, unless you agree to work for me, it's war between us."

Faith nodded. There was no need to tell Arielle that she had no intention of working for Kiba; they'd hash that out later. Arielle gestured for Faith to look around the corner, down the next corridor. Faith obeyed and a blonde man in a black suit staring blankly at Arielle's grandfather, who was issuing orders.

"That's the enemy," Arielle said. "Your enemy is the one who is after your life."

The man in black turned slightly, just enough that Faith could see that he was wearing a red tie. Faith scowled, recognizing him. _He kidnapped me,_ she thought, remembering. So much had happened, it felt like weeks ago instead of just days. _He wanted to shoot Lexi and I let him take me instead. I thought he died._

At least her memories seemed to be trickling back. That was a relief. Maybe things would turn out okay after all, as long as she stuck with Arielle.

"That is the one after your life," Arielle explained. "Well. He represents them, anyway."

"The one after my life," Faith murmured. "The Red Fang? Or—Kiba?"

The Red Fang wanted her dead. Kiba wanted her life, too, but in a different way. They wouldn't kill her, but they would manipulate her, use her until she wished she was dead. She swallowed hard, understanding.

"My enemy is the one who is after my life," she repeated, watching Arielle nod. "Or the one who would toy with my life."

"That's right, Faith," Arielle agreed. Her voice was beautiful, like a song, and Faith found herself hanging on to every word. "Aren't you tired of being someone else's target? Someone's plaything?"

Somehow, something didn't seem right with this scenario. Faith couldn't think, couldn't reason—not the way she usually could. But Arielle was making a lot of sense; her gentle explanations helped to fill in the gaps that Faith seemed to be missing. And it was just as Arielle said—she _was_ tired of running and hiding and pretending to be someone else. She nodded.

"What should I do?" she asked. Arielle smiled brilliantly and pressed something heavy and cold into Faith's hand.

"Why, destroy them, of course," she replied. "You should destroy your enemy, Faith."

"I should destroy my enemy," Faith echoed numbly, staring at the gun Arielle had given her. It was her Dad's Glock, or one just like it.

The sight of the gun in her hand sparked a memory—sitting at a desk in a dingy hotel, field stripping the weapon before turning her attention to searching the room. Her dad had left her there. He'd caught her snooping and more or less admitted that he'd expected her to poke around. _It was a test_, she realized belatedly. _A way for us to get to know each other a bit without going through a lot of awkward conversation. _

In other words, manipulation at its finest. But nothing could make her believe that her dad was her enemy. He stuck with her, even protected her, while she'd relentlessly pestered and insulted him. This whole time, he'd never even raised his voice at her. Strange as he was, it was obvious that he cared about her. A weight lifted from her thoughts as she made the connection, and suddenly she was aware of herself again—or aware of her body, at any rate. She had collapsed in the gundam's seat, and the safety harness dug uncomfortably into her back. The sterile scent of recycled air gave way to the reek of old sweat and blood, and as she flexed her hands her fingers brushed against something stiff and strangely sharp—like the edge of a thick piece of paper—tucked under the edge of the seat.

_This is the Zero System,_ she realized. _Dad said the unlucky ones went crazy first. But I won't be beaten by a machine. Luck doesn't have anything to do with this._ But even though Faith had regained some control over herself, she still had no idea how to get out of the illusion generated by the Zero System. _I guess I just have to play along and let it run its course,_ she decided. And it seemed like her hallucination of Arielle was waiting for something.

"This is wrong," Faith said, giving the gun back to Arielle although she doubted that she could convince the Zero System that violence never solved anything. It had been built with violence in mind, after all. "I don't need weapons to defeat my enemies. I'll find my own way."

Arielle's smile dissolved into an ugly scowl. "Destroy the enemy or be destroyed," she said. "Those are the only options."

"No," Faith disagreed, turning to face Arielle. "I know better. And if it does come down to it—I'm not afraid to die. Too many innocent people have lost their lives because of me already. I won't let it happen again."

"Then we've already lost," Arielle said piteously. "I don't work with losers, Faith. I need someone who isn't afraid to fight."

Faith only shook her head. Fear didn't have anything to do with it; it was a question of what was right and what was deeply, unacceptably wrong.

A hand touched her shoulder; Faith didn't need to look to know that the man in the suit—her enemy, if Arielle was to be believed—had caught up with her. She turned to face him, felt the gun press against her chest, and waited.

_This is only an illusion_, she reminded herself, although the crack of the gunshots was frighteningly real. She felt the impact, felt the sting as the bullets ripped through her falling body and blood warmed her shirt, and she squeezed her eyes shut until the last of the golden light faded and true darkness surrounded her.

It wasn't real. It would have hurt more, for one. And, for two, the afterlife probably didn't smell like the inside of Chris's soccer bag.

Slowly, painfully, Faith took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop pounding so hard. She wiped her streaming eyes on her sleeve and looked around. The gundam was lifeless again, cold, eerily silent, and pitch dark. Faith wiggled her toes and flexed her fingers, and worked the piece of paper out from under the seat. It was too dark to see, but it felt like a photo. _Of course_, she thought. _Dad and his pictures. I wonder what this one is?_

There would be time for that later. Right now, Faith wanted out before the Zero System could come up with something new to throw at her.

"Dad?"

* * *

><p>"Dad!"<p>

The cry was muffled, but it was real, Heero realized. He wasn't imagining it.

"Faith!" he yelled back. "Can you hear me?"

He heard a response, but he couldn't understand it. That was okay —it was enough that he knew she could hear him.

"There's a lever in front of your right foot," he shouted slowly, hoping she could hear him well enough to understand him through the thick hatch. "Kick it!"

Apparently she did understand. The entire hatch simply dropped off the front of the gundam, crashing to the floor and filling the hangar with noise. Heero was relieved that the emergency release still worked; his tools were all at home, and he wouldn't have been comfortable leaving Faith alone while he went all the way back to get a torch. Especially if Relena caught him.

"Well," Faith said when the echoes cleared. "That was dramatic."

"Are you okay?" Heero asked.

She fixed him with a cold stare—apparently his question was foolish enough not to dignify a response—and hopped fearlessly across the gap between the gundam and the catwalk. He reached out to steady her and she swatted his hands away.

"Don't," she warned. "I can't stand that touchy-feely crap. Not right now."

He got it. Except for Relena, he was the same way—if someone happened to get too close at the wrong moment, he was prone to lashing out. It wasn't realistic to expect Faith to trust him enough to let him near when she was upset, particularly since he was the one responsible for this fiasco.

Faith wobbled a few steps away and gave up. She sat down on the catwalk and pressed her forehead to her knees. Heero let her have her space. He knew what the Zero System did to people; it was amazing that she was even conscious, let alone speaking rationally.

He sat next to her and waited, giving her a little time to come around on her own. His first personal encounter with Zero had left him drained, physically and emotionally, and he'd had training and battle experience to help him cope.

After a moment, she rested her chin on her knees and watched him. The staring contest was awkward. Heero wasn't used to her being quiet for any amount of time; it was unnerving. He wondered what she'd experienced under the Zero System's influence, but it didn't seem right to ask. His own experience with Zero was something he'd take to his grave; and if he wasn't talking, he didn't think it was fair to demand information from her.

"Do you feel up to walking?" he asked, deciding that he should at least say _something_. "I'd like to get out of here before much longer. Relena's probably wondering where we are."

It was also past time for coffee, and maybe something to eat. Faith was probably hungry, too, come to think of it. She hopped up and dusted herself off, making a small unhappy noise when she noticed she'd chipped her nail polish. Heero rolled his eyes, and she laughed when she noticed.

"Leave me alone," she said as they walked back to the elevator. "Duo never lets me do my nails. He says it's trashy."

"I say all that girly stuff is between you and Relena," Heero replied, although he privately thought her obsession with nail polish was a little silly. "She'll know what's acceptable and what isn't, and if you're smart enough to build your own space shuttle, you're probably smart enough to pay attention to what she has to tell you."

He pressed the button for the elevator and entered the security sequence. It was probably time to change it again, but he'd leave it until their next visit. Faith watched him quietly, and he wondered again what the Zero System might have done to her.

"Here." Faith said, interrupting his thoughts. She thrust a piece of paper at him, blank side up. "I found this."

Heero took the paper and flipped it over. A woman smiled brilliantly at the photographer. She had thick brown hair and a beauty mark just under her left eye. She was beautiful, pretty enough to be a model or an actress, and it was obvious from her sparkling, joyful demeanor that it was more than skin deep. The little boy she hugged to her chest was less cheerful; he looked at the camera with solemn brown eyes and clung nervously to his mother's arms.

"I thought this was lost," he said, staring at the old photo. Faith didn't say anything. She was still and withdrawn, and Heero could only hope that her exposure to the Zero System hadn't left her permanently damaged.

He glanced down at the photo in his hand again and passed it back to her. If he was going to tell her about the gundam, he might as well tell her about everything else. She took it and frowned thoughtfully as she examined it.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Do they look familiar?"

"No," she replied. "Should they?"

Heero shrugged. He'd hoped she would have at least seen the resemblance—except for a few minor differences, she was the spitting image of the woman in the photo—but maybe she'd simply chosen not to comment.

"That's a picture of my mother and me," he said. "I don't remember when it was taken, but I think I was probably about five or six. It was right before she died."

Faith looked at him sharply before looking at the picture again, comparing. He knew she'd see the differences; they were too obvious to miss.

"This doesn't look like you," she said. "Your eyes are the wrong color, for one."

"Yeah," Heero agreed. "But it's me. I was subjected to extensive genetic therapy after I agreed to become a gundam pilot. The idea behind it was that I'd become stronger, physically and mentally, than the average human being. It worked, but there were side effects—like my eyes—that just couldn't be helped."

"That's—pretty extreme," Faith said.

Heero couldn't entirely disagree. At the time, it had seemed like the appropriate course of action. And even now, looking back, he thought he'd still make the same decision if he had the chance to go back and change his mind.

"It was worth it," he told Faith.

"Seriously?" she asked.

The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor. Heero used it as an excuse to put his thoughts together. He'd known for a while that Faith was probably going to need this information someday, but he'd never really thought about how he'd tell her. Improvisation was easier on the battlefield, it turned out; he wasn't good at pulling speeches out of the air. That was more Relena's thing.

"I think you must have inherited some of the traits they programmed into me," he said, getting to the point. Her eyes had been the most immediate tip-off, but there were other things, too. She was stronger than such a slender girl should be, for one. "I wonder if that might be why you were able to handle the Zero System as well as you did."

"I'd hardly call it well," Faith replied. "That was bizarre. It was like a training sim on crack."

Heero glowered at her choice of words. "Say that again and I'll have you tested for drugs," he grumbled. "I can do that, you know."

"Go for it," she replied, unperturbed. "We have to take random drug tests from time to time at school, though, so they probably have a record if you'd rather not go to the trouble. I'm not on anything interesting. Well. Unless Carbatrol's your thing, I mean. But you already know I'm taking that."

Heero resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He should have expected something like that; she always had a smartass comment ready for him.

"You seem to be doing all right, that's all," he explained. "I'm surprised. Zero was—difficult. Even for those of us who were able to control it."

Faith looked at him thoughtfully, as if she expected him to elaborate, but he didn't have anything more to say on the subject. The time he'd spent under the Zero System's influence was one of those things that he didn't discuss with anyone. Not even Relena.

"I wonder if I'm just not part of its target demographic," Faith said. "It seemed to be trying to convince me that I have an enemy I need to kill, and that's just not how I do things. Once I decided that I had no intention of doing what it wanted me to do, the worst part was over. Probably the only way to come up with a more solid hypothesis would be to try it again."

"Hn." It _was_ an interesting theory, but Heero didn't think they had anything to gain by experimenting with something that had proven itself dangerous time and time again. He didn't think Faith would be foolish enough to mess with it again but, just to be safe, he was making it a point to return on his own and disable the Zero System for good before bringing her back again.

They pushed through the main doors and Heero stopped to lock everything back up again. Maintenance would probably be by later, and they'd call the police if the doors were open or anything looked like it had been disturbed. It was a headache he'd rather not have to handle.

The truck was still alone in the parking lot, though, so at least no one had arrived early to water the plants and check on the building. Faith scowled at him when they got in.

"Dad!" she complained. "You're supposed to lock the car. And why did you just leave your phone on the seat? Honestly, you leave it lying around everywhere! It really is a wonder nobody's bugged it yet. Somebody out there might be listening in on your calls or tracking your location through it, Dad."

Heero made a face. She was almost as paranoid as he'd been at that age.

"There's nobody here," he replied, taking his phone from her. "And I replace phones about once a month, so no one can track me very long. It's fine."

Faith didn't look convinced, but Heero wasn't worried. He'd been doing this a long time and, so far, everything was fine. He ignored Faith's skeptical look and started going through his voicemail.

_Why do I have fifteen new messages?_ he wondered as the most recent one started playing.

"Heero," Relena's voice said. "Why aren't you answering? My office is on fire! Someone's watching our house! Now is _not _a good time for you to disappear on me. The Preventers are forcing me to evacuate; the officer in charge said you'd know where to find us, so you'd better get over here soon. I—I need you, Heero."

Her voice broke on the last word, and that worried Heero more than the rest of the message. Relena wasn't usually clingy; she preferred to do things on her own. Heero hung up the phone—probably the other fourteen messages were related to the same incident—and started the truck. If the Preventers were evacuating Relena, they'd take her to the base outside Brussels.

"What's going on?" Faith asked.

"I don't know yet," he replied. He didn't want to give her any details until he had a better grasp of the situation. "But it's going to be a long trip."

* * *

><p>Notes: Phew! This felt like a lot of information for one chapter. Maybe too much. But we're working our way to the end of this story much faster now, and that is a good feeling for me. Please drop me a line and let me know if this was too much at once! Thanks!<p>

And, as always, I really want to thank everyone who reads and reviews! I have quite a few anonymous reviewers, and this seems to be the only way to reach them, lol. So thanks! :D


	30. Chapter 30

Relena sipped her now-tepid tea and scowled at the computer screen in front of her, trying to string together a sentence that made sense. She wanted her speech to sound apologetic without being utterly pathetic; she had few regrets about the choices she'd made regarding Faith's security and she didn't see how it was anybody else's business anyway. Relena didn't really want to write the speech at all, but it was the only productive thing she could do since she'd been evacuated to the Brussels base and essentially put under lock and key until the fuss died down.

Her guards shuffled out in the hall. Voices rose and fell, but Relena had left strict orders with security that she was not to be interrupted unless it was another emergency. She scowled at the door when it swung open; she wouldn't kill the messenger, whoever it was, but she was in a bad enough mood to give them a little scare.

But the bad mood dissolved when she saw her husband standing in the doorway with a concerned expression on his face.

"Heero," she murmured, getting up to meet him halfway across the room and burying her face in his shirt. She inhaled his familiar scent and felt some of the tension ease out of her shoulders; everything would be all right now that he was here. Except everything wasn't all right—he was alone, and she knew he hadn't been alone when he'd left the house sometime before dawn.

"Where's Faith?" she asked, glancing up with worried eyes.

"She ran into Len on the way down," he said. "They're taking Torstin for a walk around the base. It should be safe, with all the agents running around right now."

Well that was one less thing on her mind. Torstin was a trained guard dog; he'd protect Faith better than some human guards. Relena snuggled back into Heero's chest, playing the damsel in distress for a few minutes more, and sighed when he pulled her close.

"You were right," she said into his shoulder.

"I'm usually right," Heero replied, running a hand over her hair. "It's nice of you to finally notice. But what am I right about this time?"

"I need to hire more security," she said softly. "I knew the general public would be upset when they found out that Faith was never really missing, but I wasn't prepared for such an extreme reaction. There were fights in the street outside my building. My office caught fire—it was probably arson—but the actual cause is still under investigation. I'm probably going to be sued, and there's no way I'll ever be elected to office again. It's a disaster. This whole day has just been one huge fuck-up after another."

"So hire more security," he said. "In a few weeks, all of this will die down. People's wounds will heal, they'll rebuild your office, and your lawyers will finally be doing something to earn those huge paychecks. We're fine, Faith is fine, and we'll make it through this."

"What about my job?" she asked.

"Quit," he replied. "It isn't like we need the money, and you hate the attention almost as much as I do. Just quit."

"I was hoping you'd say something like that," Relena murmured. "I've been thinking of resigning. I just wasn't sure I should. People rely on me."

"They'll learn to rely on someone else," Heero said. "That's just human nature, Relena. We adapt so we can survive."

She nodded; he was right, but letting go was hard. She liked to be busy; it was why she loved what she did. But there were other ways to spend her time, she reminded herself. She could write her memoir or start a charity. And she had Faith now, too. She wouldn't be bored. If anything, life was about to get a lot more exciting.

Heero pulled back slowly and Relena shot him a questioning look. She hadn't expected him to leave so soon —he'd only just arrived.

"I need to get back upstairs," he explained, and Relena realized that he was probably on duty. "I'll send Faith down when she comes back inside."

"Right," Relena murmured. "Thank you, Heero."

He only nodded—expressions of gratitude had always embarrassed him a little—and left.

Relena turned back to the computer and deleted the apology speech she'd been writing. The resignation speech was going to be much, much more satisfying.

* * *

><p>Faith made a face when Torstin lifted his leg on another fence post. He didn't even have to pee anymore; he was just being obstinate.<p>

"I think your dog has OCD," Len said. "He does that every time we walk past, well, anything. Fences. Trees. That guy's leg."

"Uh-huh," Faith muttered. "Stand still a second, Lenny. Let's find out what he thinks about guys who wear skinny jeans."

Len took a quick step backward, away from Torstin, and Faith bit back a smile. He was such a dork. Teasing Len was as much fun as teasing her dad. Maybe even a little more fun—it was easier to get a reaction out of Len.

"My mom picked these out," he mumbled, blushing and looking down at his pants.

"Did your mommy dress you, too?" Faith asked, laughing when his face turned even redder. "I like your mom, Lenny, but she seriously needs to stop buying you those jeans. They make you look like a scarecrow."

He did, too, with those long, skinny legs. Maggie said he was cute, as far as guys went, but he wouldn't be serious eye candy until he started putting on some muscle. Faith didn't see it, but she didn't pay that much attention to people's looks, either.

She had other things to worry about. Like the way her world had been turned upside-down for the umpteenth time in a week. Or the fact that, with the media circus and bad press surrounding her family, she'd probably never be able to go out anonymously in public again.

Faith sighed and tugged Torstin away from another bush. If things kept going the way they were, Len was probably going to be the only friend she had left—outside of her extended family—who'd treat her like a normal person. It would be a bad idea to alienate him now.

"Sorry," she said. "And—I'm sorry your parents had to cancel that going-away party they were throwing for you. You won't get to see them again until graduation, right?"

Len shrugged. "It isn't a big deal," he said. "And if you feel so bad about it, you can go out with me when we get back to Dalton to make up for it. It'll be fun."

His suggestive look told Faith that he had more than just dinner and maybe a movie on his mind. Faith bit her lip. He'd been dropping hints for a while and it seemed like the harder she tried to push him away, the more interested he got. It was probably about time to put an end to this, if only because it felt wrong to lead him on when it was going to be a long time before they saw each other again.

"Lenny—" she started.

"Aw, crap," he muttered. "I know that tone. Let me guess—you like me, but you don't _like_ me like me? Or you're seriously into some jerk, is that it?"

Faith only shook her head. For a smart boy, Len could be awfully bad at seeing the big picture. And this idiot was going to be valedictorian now. It was _so _unfair.

"Len," she snapped. "Let me finish talking before you start coming up with crazy conclusions. I—I'm not going back to Dalton. Duo signed me out a couple of days ago. It isn't safe for me to go back to space right now."

"Oh."

Faith watched Torstin sniff another fence post and decided he'd had enough exercise when he turned away without trying to mark it. The silence was beyond awkward anyway; Faith was ready to go back inside, where she could talk to her mom or Trowa and avoid Len and the way he reminded her that her life could never go back to the way it used to be.

They left the grassy spot and got back on the sidewalk, dodging busy Preventers and the occasional golf cart that sped past. Torstin walked at Faith's side, head up, ears pricked and alert. He snapped at a cart that came a little too close; the driver swerved to miss them and stopped in the middle of the walkway. Faith winced, bracing herself for a lecture, and nearly lost control of Torstin when he lunged at the agent.

Len wrapped an arm around her waist when Torstin unbalanced her, and took hold of the leash with his free hand. For once, Faith didn't mind being grabbed; it was much less embarrassing than being dragged across a military base by a hundred pound German shepherd.

"Thanks," Faith said, stepping away so Len could take Torstin's leash in both hands. He was snarling and snapping at the Preventer, and Faith couldn't blame the agent for being a little wary around Torstin.

"Sorry about that," she said to the agent. "I don't know what got into him; he's usually a very good dog."

"I just got called away from sorting evidence we collected in a drug bust," he replied. "He probably smells it on me. You're Faith, right? Relena Darlian's kid?"

Faith sighed. "Yeah, that's me. I don't do autographs. Sorry."

The Preventer chuckled. "I'm Agent Brewer," he said, flashing his ID badge. "I've been assigned to your case—it's why they called me off the drug unit. I'm supposed to take you back to the main building. Ms. Relena's been asking for you. They're about to move her to the quarters where she'll stay the night and she wants you to go with her."

"Oh."

It seemed like a really bad idea to bring Torstin along in Agent Brewer's little golf cart. For one, Faith wasn't sure he'd fit. And for two, he would probably tear Brewer's arms off if Len let him go. He was barking furiously now, and he'd worked himself into such a frenzy that he was starting to drool _everywhere_.

"I'll just walk back," Faith decided. "I'm sure Mom will understand if we're a few minutes late because of the way Torstin's behaving. It'll be fine."

A little frown creased Brewer's forehead. eHe obviously was used to following a chain of command where orders were issued and obeyed and that was all there was to it. Faith sighed. What a pill.

"Mom won't leave without me," Faith said. But Agent Brewer wasn't reassured.

"The problem is that Ms. Relena isn't giving the orders right now," he explained. "In these situations, Preventer agents take control. She doesn't get a choice—you saw how they forced her evacuation this morning. If you aren't there when they're ready to move out, you will be left behind and agents here will take care of you until arrangements can be made. Frankly, it's more trouble than we can handle right now, Miss."

Faith really didn't want to cause any more problems for the Preventers. They were already up to their ears in trouble thanks to her, and things must have been bad for her dad was to send someone else after her instead of coming himself. He probably hadn't counted on Torstin reacting so strongly to Agent Brewer, though.

"What about Torstin?" Faith asked, gesturing to the belligerent dog.

"I'll take him, Fay," Len said. "There are handlers on -site who can take care of him for now—I'll leave him with them. You should go."

"Right," Faith agreed reluctantly. It didn't seem right to just up and leave Len with Torstin, but she knew her dad would be pissed if she did anything to upset her mom. He'd been especially touchy ever since they'd left Sanc that morning; it was probably a good idea to keep her head down and follow orders, at least until he was in a better mood. "Thanks, Len."

She climbed into the golf cart and settled in. At least she'd get to be with her mom for a while. That would be nice.

"Fay. Wait," Len said. "I'll see you in the summer, right?"

"We'll see," Faith replied. "I really don't know what's going to happen to me next; I might not be safe here, either. But—I'll look you up once everything is settled. Okay?"

"Sure," Len agreed, blushing scarlet and failing at his attempt to sound casual. Faith grinned and waved goodbye as the cart started to pull away and Len had to focus on holding onto Torstin as he lunged against the leash.

* * *

><p>Heero stayed apart from the crew that was working on crowd control following the riots that had erupted around Relena's building that morning. It wasn't his responsibility—he'd been pulled off Relena's detail years ago—but watching them bumble around was irritating. He sat in the break room instead, where he could hear what was happening through the open door, because he wanted to keep up with the information that was coming in from the field.<p>

Trowa wasn't as lucky. He'd been assigned to the base with the rest of the agents in the other room, and he stalked into the break room looking a little worse for wear. He wasn't used to working with others; the long hours he'd been putting in over the last week were finally taking their toll.

"I think I'm quitting when this is over," Trowa said, sitting down and sliding a mug of coffee down the table to Heero. "It might be nice to live a normal life for a while."

Heero didn't have a good response for that. He didn't think being a knife thrower's target in a traveling circus counted as a normal life, but he couldn't argue with the sentiment. Trowa wasn't the only one who wanted to settle down. And now that Relena was resigning, maybe they'd finally have a chance for a peaceful life of their own. It would be an interesting change, anyway.

Heero sipped his coffee thoughtfully, wondering what it would be like. No more reports. No more missions. No more weeks spent home alone while Relena was touring, lecturing or campaigning. It sounded boring—but Faith wouldn't let them be bored. The kid was a mile-a-minute ball of energy; she never stopped. She'd keep them on their toes.

There was a clatter in the stairwell, footsteps and the unmistakable sound of a large, agitated dog. Yeah. Faith was anything but boring.

Except Faith wasn't with Torstin and Len. Heero shot the boy a dirty look and was pleasantly surprised to discover that he could, in fact, scare the ever-loving crap out of Wufei's kid with a simple glare.

"Where's Faith?" he demanded. "And what have you done to Torstin?"

The dog was whining and pulling at the leash, frantically trying to get back downstairs and, presumably, back outside. Len just seemed confused.

"Faith went with Agent Brewer," he replied. "He said he'd been sent to get her. Faith didn't want to go, but he told us Ms. Relena was about to leave and Faith would get left behind here if she didn't hurry. Torstin freaked out when Brewer showed up, so I offered to walk him back here by myself."

It was absolutely the last thing Heero needed to hear. The kids weren't stupid; they'd proven that at school any number of times. So why in the world would either of them think it was acceptable to take a ride from a stranger? Wasn't that something they learned in preschool?

"Trowa—" Heero started.

"I'm already on it," Trowa replied, dashing into the next room and calling for a Code Amber emergency response. Heero grabbed his cell phone and started Dak's tracking program. It wasn't accurate enough to pinpoint Faith's exact location, but it was good enough that Heero was sure she was still on the base.

"Code Amber—that's for missing kids, isn't it?" Len asked. "What's going on?"

Heero glowered. Surely the boy wasn't _that_ obtuse.

"The Code Amber is for Faith," he muttered, throwing his jacket on and making sure he had everything he needed to apprehend a suspect. "Stay here. Find Wufei and tell him you need to file a witness report. Anything you remember might help us find her, Len."

"Right," Len agreed, his dark eyes huge with worry.

"This is a big base, and it's practically on lockdown since Relena's here," Heero said, trying to reassure the kid while he grabbed the rest of his things. "If we're lucky, they haven't made it to the gates yet."

* * *

><p>Notes: It's late and it's short, but it's finally up! Sorry about the delay; I've been taking extra shifts at work for the past couple of weeks and job hunting on top of that. There isn't much free time left with everything else I have going on...Anyway. Read, review, and enjoy!<p>

And, of course, many thanks to everyone who reads and reviews, or adds me to favorites or alerts. It really makes my day! :D


	31. Chapter 31

**And I'm back! It took way too long, didn't it? Sorry about that.**

* * *

><p>They weren't lucky. By the time the Preventers had organized a search party, the report was in—an unmarked sedan had left the base just seconds before the Code Amber had been called. The car had been abandoned at a gas station nearby, exchanged for a different getaway vehicle.<p>

Heero could have used Dak's tracking device to go after Faith, but Trowa convinced him that it was smarter to do a quick search of Agent Brewer's office and personnel files first rather than charge blindly into what could be a trap.

That had been twenty minutes ago. If Trowa took much longer, Heero was leaving without him. Relena was so distressed that she'd started biting her nails again. Heero was just angry; he'd lose it if he didn't get moving soon, and rage wasn't a useful emotion in a hostage situation.

So he borrowed Relena's computer and worked his way into the database where Brewer's files were located. Preventer conducted extensive background checks on all of its employees, and Brewer's report was interesting. The man was good. His record was spotless; in five years, he'd never been late or called in sick, and his annual reviews were all slightly above average.

"I don't understand," Relena murmured as she read over his shoulder. "He seems like such a good agent. Why would he do this?"

"He's a spy," Heero replied. "The best spies put a lot of effort into avoiding recognition—good or bad. His work meets expectations so no one can brand him as a troublemaker. But he doesn't volunteer for special missions or training and he never tries for promotions."

"I'm sure a lot of agents are like that—not everyone is ambitious enough to climb the ladder all the way to the top," Relena said skeptically. "How do you know you aren't just generalizing?"

"He kidnapped our daughter. Do you need any stronger evidence than that?" Relena still didn't look convinced, but that was just who she was—she wouldn't condemn anyone without getting all of the details first. "Before Brewer came to Preventer, he was head of security for Satoshi Kiba's granddaughters. Kiba wrote him a glowing recommendation when he joined us. I doubt it's a coincidence."

"That does seem unlikely," Relena murmured. "But he's been with the Preventers for so long! Why did this happen now?"

Heero shrugged. "I guess we'll have to ask him when we catch him. There are a lot of reasons why a man like Kiba would want an agent inside Preventer," he said. "Originally, it probably didn't have anything to do with Faith. I think he saw today as an opportunity and took it."

There were footsteps on the stairs outside. Heero listened to the carefully measured paces, so unlike the plodding of the guards that had been crashing around all day. Trowa was finally back. It was about time.

"What did you find?" Heero asked, skipping useless preamble and getting straight to the point.

"Coordinates and a map to a private launch site just across the border," Trowa replied, holding out a printout. "They're taking her back into space. We should be able to just catch them if we leave now. I have a team assembled; Wufei is briefing them now, to bring everyone up to speed."

"I don't like this," Heero grumbled. "This is the second time Faith's been threatened by someone within Preventer. We don't know how many of our agents are working for the Red Fang, and we can't do background checks on your entire team right now."

"We've prepared for that," Trowa replied. "We took up all of their electronic devices before the briefing, and no one will be allowed access to phones or computers before we leave. I'm sure Brewer is anticipating our arrival, but there shouldn't be any way for him to know the exact details."

Heero still didn't like it, but he didn't see that they had a choice. A quick glance at the map showed a launch site that was naturally secure, and a well-prepared enemy would have no trouble defending the area against a large force. They were going to need backup.

"You're in charge of these guys," Heero said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. "Make sure you have someone who's certified for negotiations; Brewer's too smart to accidentally leave this information out where just anyone could find it. He wants something."

"Right," Trowa agreed, ducking back out the door. He was as guarded as ever, but Heero thought he sensed relief in the other man's voice. Apparently Trowa had gotten over some of his lone wolf tendencies in the years since they'd last worked together.

"I'm glad there's someone here you still trust," Relena said softly once Trowa was gone. "I worry about you sometimes, you know."

Heero shrugged awkwardly into his jacket. He couldn't help being who he was, and he hated that Relena found some of his habits so upsetting.

"You have enough to worry about already," he said. "Work on your speech. I bet we'll be back before you're finished."

"Hmm," she murmured. "We'll see."

She stopped him with a gentle hand when he reached for the doorknob and her soft smile told him exactly what she wanted. He kissed her impatiently—it was time to _go_, dammit—and pulled the door open.

"Be careful, Heero!" Relena called after him. "I love you!"

"I know," he replied gruffly over his shoulder as he raced up the stairs. "I'm glad."

* * *

><p>Faith started at the sound of metal striking metal, but she was alone. It was dark, just as dark as before, and for a moment she was afraid she was still trapped inside the gundam.<p>

And then the nausea sank in and Faith managed to scramble onto all fours just in time to throw up all over the cold metal floor.

_This isn't Zero_, she realized as she tried to get her bearings and move away from the mess she'd made. _This is much worse._

Faith closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened. _Len_, she thought. _I went walking with Lenny and we met that man. Agent Brewer._

Everything else clicked into place. Brewer had stopped and picked up a friend, and his friend had stuck her with something after the cart had started moving again. It had been so sudden—she'd caught the barest flicker of movement before the needle went in, and then it was too late.

_I've been captured,_ she realized. _They're taking me to space, just like Zero showed me, and that'll be the end of it. We've lost. _

Faith blinked furiously in the dark, trying to clear her head, but closing her eyes only made things worse. The nightmares were there behind her eyelids, flickers of golden light and glimpses of a frightening, violent future that shifted and changed as key players came and went. Something told Faith that she might always dream these dreams, even when she was awake, and a fearful shiver rushed through her. It was like being inside the Zero System all over again.

It was almost as bad as the memories. Faith hoped it would fade in time. Having one foot in the past and one in the future was going to make it impossible for her to stay focused on the present.

"I told you that was too much," someone said. The voice was male and angry, and a surge of fear cut through the nightmares, helping Faith come closer to the real world. "The old man won't be happy if she shows up brain-damaged from an overdose of sedative."

_I won't be happy if I show up brain-damaged either_, Faith thought giddily, sucking in a deep breath. It was hard to breathe, like there was a weight on her chest. A heavy sedative would explain that, though. A heavy sedative might also explain the hallucinations and nightmares.

"I only gave her the standard dose—" The sound of a slap cut off a whiny second person.

"You gave her the standard amount for an _adult!_" the first person said. "Does she look like an adult to you? _Idiot._"

_Idiot_, Faith agreed. The drug's effects were getting weaker, but that wasn't surprising; her body had an odd way of metabolizing medications—it was why her doctor still hadn't found a way to control her seizures—and most drugs wore off faster than they should. _Maybe it's whatever Dad was talking about earlier, those manipulated genes he thinks I inherited. _

Faith shifted as quietly as she could and moved to lean against the wall. She was alone on the floor in the back of a panel van. The men were all outside. From the amount of noise they were making, she was sure there were more than just the two who'd kidnapped her. It was too dark to see, but some part of her—the new, unfamiliar part—gave her the information she needed. The cargo area was completely sealed off from the front part of the van. The doors had been reinforced with steel bars, and there was nothing for a determined girl to use as a tool or a weapon. They had even taken her shoes and the elastic band from her hair, but they'd somehow missed her necklace. The pendant thumped heavily against her chest, and it was the only thing that kept her from feeling completely hopeless.

_Dad's looking for me,_ she thought. _He has to be looking by now. But what if he can't get to me? What if he doesn't make it in time?_

The nightmare presence in the back of her mind shifted restlessly at that thought, sending her a rush of information too fast to comprehend. There were possibilities—so many possibilities—and not enough data to pinpoint the most probable outcome. So she got every outcome in one horrible burst that left her screaming in frustration and pain.

"Get the boss," someone said outside. "That didn't sound good."

"No shit," Faith muttered through clenched teeth. Her head ached fiercely now, pounding in tempo with her rapid heartbeat. "What the hell is going on here?"

Without anyone around to ask, Faith could only conclude that the drugs were causing her to hallucinate and the similarities to the Zero System were purely coincidental. She hoped it was just the drugs, anyway.

Faith pressed her forehead into her knees and tried to concentrate on breathing, and just staying in the present.

_This is _not_ good,_ she decided. It was easier to breathe now that she was sitting up, and the air made her feel stronger. But her mind was still playing tricks on her, and she didn't know what was real anymore. She pulled Dak's necklace out from its hiding place under her shirt and clutched the pendant until it dug into her palm. Even if she couldn't believe her other senses, she knew that the dull ache wasn't her imagination.

* * *

><p>The sun was gone by the time they caught up with the Red Fang, but it didn't matter; there was plenty of light at the launch site—enough that their team would be spotted as soon as they moved any closer. Heero stood off to one side, observing the site through a pair of binoculars while Wufei and Trowa handled their team.<p>

It was a small, private site, owned by a company that was a distributor for several hydroponics firms, including Kiba. There was only one launch pad; a small short-range shuttle was being prepared for flight. Mechanics rushed around, taking care of last minute checks.

Heero focused his attention on a van near the shuttle, parked away from the other vehicles. A guard stood outside the doors; he stared into the darkness with one hand on his weapon, obviously tense. Another guard approached, and Heero squinted to read their lips.

"Preparations are almost complete," the newcomer said. "The boss said a small overdose of sedative isn't life -threatening, and the girl should be fine if she's able to make all that noise."

They both started; from this distance, Heero couldn't see or hear anything strange. He could only guess that Faith was causing some kind of commotion.

"What are our orders?" the first guard asked.

"Stand guard here and wait for the boss," the second one replied. "He said he's taking responsibility for her, so no one else gets blamed if something goes wrong."

"Helluva guy," the first one muttered. "None of these other jerks would stick his neck out like that."

The second one spat on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think he's going soft," he said. "Too much time around those pussy Preventers."

Heero snorted softly at that. It sounded like the guard had never seen a Preventer at work before. Heero wondered if the jackass would still think Preventers were weak after everything was said and done. He lowered his goggles and shook his head.

A twig snapped behind him, but the sound was soft and deliberate. Trowa was giving him some warning, trying not to surprise him.

"What is it?" Heero asked.

"We're almost ready to move," Trowa replied. "Wufei's taking a group around back now. We'll jam the enemy's communications once we get Wufei's signal and come at them from two sides. If we're lucky, it'll be over fast."

Heero nodded. They were well-equipped this time around, and the Red Fang didn't seem to have any serious weaponry. It was surprising since Brewer had left so many clues lying around; Heero had expected a more hostile situation.

"I'm going for the van," Heero said. "I'll help you with the rest once I know Faith is safe."

"Just get her and leave. Take the van," Trowa suggested. "We can handle this without you. If you really need to rationalize, you can consider it a chance to get a head start on all the paperwork."

"I want to know what Brewer's planning," Heero argued. "He wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to get us here if he didn't want something."

A wolf's howl reverberated through the site, loud enough that the animal had to be somewhere nearby. Even the mechanics stopped working for a moment, startled by the animal's apparent proximity.

"Well, maybe you'll find out what Agent Brewer was up to before you have to leave," Trowa replied, drawing his gun and clicking the safety off. "That was Wufei's signal. It's time to move in."

* * *

><p>Notes: Many thanks to all of the people who left reviews or put me on alerts while I was away! It means so much to me. :D<p>

I didn't spend a whole lot of time looking over this chapter (or any of the following chapters), so please let me know if you spot mistakes.


	32. Chapter 32

Heero crouched beside some crates of fertilizer that were stacked just a few yards away from the van where Faith was being held. Unfortunately, there was no more cover—he was going to have to run for it, and it was unlikely that he'd escape notice. He wasn't ready to move yet, and he cursed himself for hesitating. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stolen a vehicle, but he wasn't fifteen anymore and his life wasn't the only one at stake.

The nearest guards were paying more attention to what was happening in front of them, thanks to Trowa's team, so Heero dashed across the open space between his shelter and the side of the van.

Shouts followed and Heero swore under his breath; he'd hoped to at least get into the van before attracting their attention.

He shot the glass out of the driver's side window—there was no need to bother with stealth now that he'd been discovered—and reached through the hole to open the door. From there, it only took a second to break the lock on the steering column and another to rip away the plastic molding that covered the wires beneath the steering wheel. A normal person would have needed tools but, thanks to Dr. J and a handful of other crazy scientists, Heero wasn't exactly normal anymore. Bare hands were fine with him. The scrapes and bruises would heal in a day or two. And right now, he didn't care about neatness or precision in his work; he wasn't planning on putting the van back together once he was done with it. All Heero wanted was a quick getaway.

Most vehicles came with deterrents, such as radio frequency identification chips installed in the keys, that prevented thieves from getting away with older, more conventional methods of hotwiring. Heero's methods, however, were anything but conventional. He almost had it when he realized it had gone strangely quiet outside. Much more quiet than a raid should be.

He risked a glance out the window and scowled when he saw ex-Preventer Brewer standing right outside with his arms crossed over his chest and a bemused look on his face. Everyone else, Preventers and Red Fang alike, had gone still. Nobody looked happy.

_Looks like we walked right into their trap,_ Heero thought, disgusted. _Well, we knew they were up to _something_._

"You don't want to do that," Brewer advised. "There's enough Tramex wired to that thing to blow you and the girl sky-high as soon as the engine starts. And all these crates and pallets? More explosives, stuff that'll go off at the slightest tremor. Blow the van and you'll take the rest of this launch pad—and all your Preventer friends—along with you."

"Your guys will go up, too," Heero pointed out.

"You think I care?" Brewer asked. "If we lose the kid, I'm dead anyway. I might as well go out with a bang."

Brewer sounded smug, and Heero didn't think he was bluffing. If it had only been his life on the line, he might have chanced it—he'd been through worse and survived—but he wouldn't risk Faith on a stupid, rebellious impulse. He dropped the wires and glowered at the ex-Preventer.

"Get out," Brewer said, yanking the door open. "Leave your gun on the seat. Hands where I can see them. I have a remote and if you don't obey, I'll detonate this place myself."

* * *

><p>Faith didn't struggle when two Red Fang guards came for her. She hobbled weakly in front of them and concentrated on keeping a blank expression on her face, just like Duo had taught her. For now, until she knew what was going on, she'd let them think she was still sedated. It might buy her time later, if an opportunity to escape arose.<p>

Her head still ached, but this didn't seem like a hallucination—she could feel the gun pressed into her back—but she clutched her pendant anyway, just in case. She'd taken if off the chain and it fit nicely in her clenched fist. She hoped it was concealed, anyway.

If her guards noticed, they didn't try to take it from her.

They seemed tense, almost frightened, and when Faith stumbled down onto the ground, she saw why they were on edge.

She'd heard the commotion outside—the gunshot, followed by a lot of noise in the front of the van, followed by silence—and wondered what it all meant.

"Dad."

The word fell from her chapped lips and, for a second, she struggled with her composure. She'd seen that look on his face before, years and years ago, and she knew that composure was a struggle for him, too.

_Why is this happening?_ she wondered, searching his face and finding no answers. He looked grim, and when Faith saw the remote in Brewer's hand, she thought she knew why. _Another bomb. It has to be something big to stop this many Preventers in their tracks._

"Faith." Her dad got her attention. He spoke calmly to her, even if the frustration was plain on his face. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered. That, at least, was the truth. She was nauseated and dizzy and her head would not stop pounding; everything was bathed in yellow light, and she kept thinking the strangest thoughts.

"That's enough," Brewer said. "You two, get the girl onto the shuttle before anyone tries to interfere. We don't have all night. If anyone tries to stop you—kill her. Mr. Kiba only said he'd _prefer_ to have her alive; it isn't a necessity."

Faith planted her feet and the man behind her cocked his pistol. Reluctantly, she took a step toward the shuttle, willing herself not to panic. If they were really taking her to Kiba, maybe Selda and Arielle would convince their grandfather to let her live. That was a pretty big if, though.

The guard prodded her again and she stumbled. He grabbed her elbow and wrenched her back to her feet, nearly dislocating her shoulder in the process. Faith whimpered; she couldn't help it.

"Take it easy," Brewer said. "She's probably still feeling the effects of the sedative."

"We should just kill her and be done with it," her guard protested. "Both of them, even. We have them here—why not finish this now?"

The commotion was attracting others; several watchers murmured quietly, and it sounded to Faith like many of them were agreeing with her guard. She swallowed convulsively, feeling light-headed with fear.

"Because that isn't how we do things," Brewer replied. "We follow orders. Get the girl on the shuttle, now, before I lose my patience."

The guard snapped to attention and grabbed Faith's elbow again. She grimaced at the unfamiliar touch but didn't fight him. There were too many watchers, too many variables that Faith couldn't calculate; it was impossible to know who might step in, or who might pull a gun and just start shooting. She took another shaky step forward. And another.

"Wait." Faith stopped walking and stared at her dad, who spoke calmly even with Brewer's gun trained on him. "If you do anything to her, you're no better than I am. Faith doesn't have anything to do with this; Libra was destroyed before she was born."

"So it was," Brewer agreed, almost cheerfully. "But I fail to see your point. Like I said earlier—it's _my_ ass if I let the girl go. What do you want?"

Faith thought her heart might stop when her dad cracked a grin. She'd been stressing over nothing. Obviously, he had a plan and Brewer and his buddies had just walked into some kind of trap. Faith waited, scarcely breathing, for her dad to answer Brewer's question.

"Take me instead," he offered. "Kiba won't complain. He only went after Faith because he didn't think he could get me."

"_What_?" Faith demanded, halting in her tracks. Her guard made a grab for her and she kicked him hard, right in the knee. He fell back, cursing, but his partner stepped in to take his place and Faith was trapped again. "No! Dad!"

He wouldn't even look at her. He stared at Brewer, waiting for an answer. Brewer smiled and Faith's breath caught in her throat.

"That's awfully noble of you. But I might just take you both," Brewer said. "You don't exactly have the means to get away from us."

"Your shuttle can't handle the extra weight."

_Dad's right about that,_ Faith realized, looking at the spacecraft on the launch pad. It was a small, short-range ship designed to carry a few passengers or a little cargo. It wouldn't handle much more than Brewer's handful of accomplices. Even one other person was pushing it.

"I could just leave one of these idiots behind," Brewer suggested. Faith caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, though, and she suspected he was just toying with her dad and the rest of his team. Her guards shoved her and she took another reluctant step forward. "You do make a good point, though. I don't feel right hurting some poor, stupid kid over something that happened almost twenty years ago."

Faith heard a few angry grumbles then—obviously some of Brewer's cohorts felt just fine about hurting her—but they were quieter than she expected. Nobody spoke out, anyway, and Faith wondered if it was just as her dad predicted—that the Red Fang was only going after her because they didn't think they could get at him.

"Dad," she murmured. "Please don't do this."

If he heard, he didn't say anything. He still wouldn't meet her eyes. Faith clenched her cross pendant in her fist, so hard it hurt, and leaned forward against her guards' hold. She couldn't break free without causing a commotion, but that didn't mean she was going to make things easy on them. Especially not when her dad was still trying to throw his life away.

"Think about it," he said to Brewer. "You have _no _idea how many people would literally kill to get their hands on me. Leave Faith here, unharmed, and I won't even put up a fight. No one will pursue, either; you were a Preventer. I'm sure you're familiar with Directive Zero-One."

Faith shivered at the reckless look in her dad's eyes. He seemed almost—excited. It was exactly the same look Duo had gotten that time he'd "accidentally" clobbered Maggie's dad with an air wrench. It was frightening, really, but Brewer didn't seem intimidated. In fact, he looked pretty happy.

"All right, Zero. We have a deal," Brewer said. "Boys, hand the girl over to one of these fine Preventers and let's get on out of here. We'll miss our rendezvous if we waste any more time here."

Faith couldn't believe her luck when her guards complied without a word of protest. They shoved her toward the nearest Preventer, who clumsily caught her arm when she stumbled into him, and went to join their comrades.

Unlike her Red Fang guards, the Preventer wasn't trying to hold Faith in place. He wasn't counting on a struggle. And he definitely wasn't expecting a bony elbow to slam into his trachea. He went down, gagging, and Faith was free.

"_Dad_!"

* * *

><p>It was almost funny, watching a ninety-pound kid knock a full-grown, ex-military federal agent on his ass.<p>

Actually, under better circumstances, it would have been hilarious.

But now was not a good time for Faith to start acting up. Heero had to brace himself when she slammed into him, and he still nearly fell over. Faith threw her arms around his neck and he felt something heavy drop into his shirt pocket. Heero doubted anyone else noticed; it was a smooth move, and not an action that anyone would expect out of a sobbing, distressed teen.

Heero didn't know what she'd slipped him, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. It was as he'd told Brewer—no one was going to pursue. Tonight was going to be covered up. Une would see to it personally once she got the word from Wufei and Trowa. But there was no sense in explaining that to Faith now. It would just make her cry harder.

"You're just like your mother," he grumbled. "Always walking straight into danger when you ought to be running the other direction."

"Shut up," Faith replied, sniffling. "You can't do this to me. Not again."

There wasn't time to argue the point. Brewer was coming with zip strips and Heero didn't want the man changing his mind and taking Faith after all. He gestured for Trowa to come and take her. Luckily, no one tried to stop him.

"Sorry," Heero said awkwardly. "You'll understand someday, when you have a son or daughter of your own, Faith."

Faith stiffened when Trowa rested a hand on her shoulder, and she clung tighter for a second before stepping back into Trowa's hold. She was shivering without a jacket, and her loose hair frizzed out everywhere. The chain around her neck glittered under the floodlights, but her pendant was missing. It didn't take a genius to figure out what she'd done with it. He hoped she wasn't planning anything stupid; Brewer would probably take the pendant, along with everything else he had in his pockets, once they got into space anyway.

"No," she whispered. "Don't say that, Dad. Please."

But there wasn't anything else Heero could say. He wasn't going to lie. This was permanent; it was just the way things had to be. He didn't see another way to fix things without risking too many other innocent lives. He stood still while Brewer attached the zip strips to his wrists and savagely tightened them down.

"There's a floor safe in my closet," he said to Faith. "I don't think Relena knows about it. The combination is your birthday."

Faith only shook her head, but Heero knew curiosity would eventually get the better of her and she'd open the safe.

"Trowa, get her out of here now," Heero said. "Evacuate your team and go. There isn't anything more that you can do here. You know that."

"Right," Trowa murmured, throwing an arm over Faith's shoulders and pulling her away. "I'll see to it. Take care, Heero."

Heero watched them go, wondering what Trowa could have possibly meant by that. Maybe it was just a figure of speech. It didn't matter. Heero was content with his decision even if he wasn't exactly happy with the way things had played out; dying for Faith was better than living with the guilt that came along with doing nothing. And Faith was strong, at least as strong as Relena. Once things settled down, they'd get by fine without him.

"Let's go," Brewer muttered, shoving Heero roughly and breaking his train of thought. "We don't have time for all this long-goodbye bullshit. You got more than any of us did."

"Yeah," Heero agreed, walking obediently up the ramp to the shuttle. "I did, didn't I?"

* * *

><p>Notes: I had a hard time writing this one. Please let me know what you think, particularly if you spot any mistakes or inaccuracies.<p> 


	33. Epilogue

It was a week before Faith could bring herself to open the safe. She opened it in the morning while her mom was out, and she was still sitting in the closet among her dad's clothes that evening when her mom returned from work.

"I didn't know my middle name was Annabelle," Faith said, staring at her birth certificate. "How silly."

Her mom teared up a little at the sight of the document. "If I'd left it up to your father, you wouldn't have a middle name at all. He was happy with just calling you Faith," she murmured. "How did you even find this, Fay? I had no idea all this stuff was here. I haven't seen some of these pictures in years."

"Dad told me about it," Faith replied. "I hope he's okay."

She spared a glance at the cell phone she'd propped up on one of his shoes. He'd left it behind—as usual—in Trowa's car the night of the raid, and Faith had snatched it. The tracking software was still working, but there was no way to tell if he was even alive.

"I'm sure he's fine," her mom said. "Just watch. Just when we think he's really gone and gotten himself killed, he'll walk right in the back door and pass out in the kitchen. I can't tell you how many times it's happened in the past; I lost count after the second or third incident."

"Somehow, that sounds like Dad," Faith replied, smiling a little. Her mom smiled back. "I think I'm going to take a break, Mom. Will you help me go through this some more later?"

"Of course," her mom said. "After we make dinner. You're such a big help, I might even have this cooking thing down by the time Heero gets back home. He'll be so surprised."

"Right," Faith murmured. "Go ahead and start getting things set up. I'll be along in a minute."

Faith shuffled papers around while her mom padded out of the room. She wondered how long the denial was going to last. Everyone seemed to believe that her dad had left with some kind of plan in mind, but Faith knew better. He wasn't going to come back on his own; she'd seen it in his eyes that night. Preventer wasn't going to rescue him either, thanks to that stupid directive. But that didn't matter. As long as her tracker worked, Faith had his location. And as soon as she could get back into space, she would have access to a faster ship than anything Kiba or the Red Fang might possess.

They'd never know what hit them.

**End**

* * *

><p>Notes: Yeah, you read that right. This is it, at least for now. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought of the story!<p>

The "chapter" after this one is a bit of an explanation and a few lousy excuses. Skim over it if you wish, particularly if you're thinking of asking questions about the end of the story. I hope I've answered at least a few of the major ones.


	34. Notes

Well, I hope everyone enjoyed _Leap of Faith_! It's been a pleasure to write, and I'm always touched when I get reviews and notes from my readers. You guys are the greatest! I want to thank you all, particularly my anonymous reviewers since I can't PM you to thank you personally.

I know people are going to wonder why I decided to end the story at this point, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you. It's just getting out of hand, and getting far too long, and this felt like the right move to make from a technical standpoint. There's going to be a pretty drastic shift in perspective from this point on, and it made sense to stop things here and start fresh with a sequel. The working title is _Ode to Joy_, but that might change; it's still in the planning stages. With luck, I'll be able to start posting it before long. I'm going to be without my computer starting Monday —I'll be in Seattle for another week and I'm not bringing it along this time—but I hope to have the next story started by the time January 1 gets here. We'll have to see.

I know it's taken me a while to get these last few chapters posted, but life has been kicking my ass pretty hard lately. I'm still job-hunting like a madwoman, but it's looking like I won't land anything before the end of the year. My grandparents both have Alzheimer's, and this is probably going to be the last holiday season we get to spend together. They're both getting to where they're pretty out of it; they just can't handle the strain of huge family gatherings anymore. Another relative is in the hospital with cancer. And it continues to go downhill from there. It's starting to take a toll. But enough about that—I'd rather be thankful for all of the good things I have in front of me than stress over the ones I can't control.

Happy holidays to everyone, no matter what you celebrate! I hope to see you all again soon!


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